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Life IN Other Lands 



BY 

ALICE HAMBLIN 
(I 



SCHOOL EDUCATION COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 

Two CoDles Received 

MAY 12 1904 

Csoyrlffht Entry 

CLAS^ a- XXo. No. 

^i> 1 / i 
COPY B 



COPYRIGHTED 1903 

BY 

ALICE HAMBLIN 



Life in Other Lands 



Contents 




-^ 






PAGJE 


Switzerland — Jules 


1 


Hassan, the Arab _ _ _ 


21 


Africa — Kongo _ - - , 


39 


Eskimo — Kudlu 


62 


South America — Marja 


84 


China — Sing Lee - - 


- 107 


Germany — Klara - - _ 


130 




Switzerland 5 iJ 5 

JULES 

N rugged Switzerland there lives a boy who 
is a worthy type of a brave people. Whethf 
er found on mountain heights or ift picturf 
esque valleys, the Swiss are ever devoted to their na-^ 
tive land, and courageous in its defense. 

Jules lives in a tiny house, that is nestled for se- 
curity against the side of the mountain. The low 
shingle roof, which is loaded with stones as protection 
from the force of the wind, projects over an outside 
gallery. The space under the house is a combination 
of barn, woodshed, cow house, carriage house, and 
store room. 

Jules has just finished his preparations for the 
night, and we enter with him the neat room where the 
evening meal is waiting. The bench which extends 
around three sides of the room, the long table, and an 
earthen stove comprise the chief articles of furniture. 

Jules is his mother's only support. His father has 
been dead a year, and there are neither brothers- nor 
sisters to share the responsibility of keeping up the 
home. The small herd of cows and the goats that 
were his father's are a heavy care for so young a boy. 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



The neighbors are all fond of the boy and he is al- 
ways able to get work. He used to be a goatherd. 
It is a dangerous occupation, for the goats are pastur- 
ed where it is unsafe for the cows to go. The boy is ex- 

^ pected to risk his 
life for the goats 
in his charge and 
to avoid neither ex- 
posure nor fatigue. 
Only to - day a 
neighbor has come 
asking Jules to go 
with the herds next 
week to assist at 
the cheese making. He offers to take the small herd 
belonging to Jules along with several other herds from 
the village and he will divide the profits according 
to the amount of milk given by each man's herd. The 
wages which Jules will receive will help to buy his 
mother some needed comforts, and he accepts the offer. 
Several weeks ago neighbor Fritz went up to the 
chalet* and put everything in readiness. It is now the 
last of May and it is quite time for the departure of 
the herds. 

*Chatet is a term applied to the simple mountain dwellings of 
Switzerland. 




SWITZERLAND. 



When this event takes place there is a hoHday for 
the entire village. For hours, Jules has been rubbing 
the coats of the cattle to make them sleek and clean. 
The streets are thronged with envious boys and girls, 
feeble old men, and proud but saddened wives and 
mothers. 

Fritz, the Zusenn,* goes first, followed by the cat- 
tle, gaily decorated with garlands of ribbon and flow- 
ers. The milking stool, festooned with flowers, is fas- 
tened in its conspicuous place on the horns of a bull. 
The leader of the herd has fastened to her neck a 
large, egg-shaped, brass bell. She is ever mindful of 
her rank. Should her bell be lost, she sickens; while 
if sold and placed in a herd where another leader is 
in possession, there is a fight for the leadership. 

The women who are left in the village will em- 
ploy the time with embroidery and tambouring, t In 
Hamerstein, however, the whole community repairs 
to a summer village with the herds, leaving only a 
few old men on guard. 

Slowly the procession winds out of sight, the pack 
horses with the cheese-making apparatus bringing up 
the rear; and those who are left at home turn again 
to their daily tasks. 



*A sort of superintendent. 
fA kind of embroidery. 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



Let US follow the difficult path of the herdsmen 
as they wind upward. About noon a sudden halt is 
called, for the path ends in a steep descent. The cows 
must be let down this precipice by ropes, so the prog- 
ress is much de- 
layed; and it is 
long after noon 
when the chalet 
is reached. 

When the 
measures are un- 
packed, the one- 
legged stools put 
away, the funnel- 
shaped strainers 
lined with fresh 
leaves, the beds 
of straw made for 
the men, and the 
herds cared for, 
it is dark; and a 
very simple meal 
i s eaten, for 
which hard work 
has provided a 
good appetite. 




SWITZERLAND. 



From now on, one day is much like another. 
Some look after the herds as they feed; others are 
busy at the cheese making. Jules is engaged in this 
latter occupation. From the milk of eighty cows 
they make about ninety pounds of cheese a day. The 
milking is done at ten o'clock in the morning, and 
again at ten in the evening. 

It takes six or eight goats to equal the value of 
one cow, while only four sheep or four hogs equal' a 
cow; but one horse is worth four or six cows. 

During the lonely night's watch on the moun- 
tains, the herdsmen answer each other with the yodel,* 
this peculiar sound cheering many a lonesome heart. 

The days pass, and finally the shareholders come 
to the chalet to see the milk measured. The cows are 
milked in the presence of their owners, and the 
amount of milk is taken as the basis for dividing the 
profits. 

There are certain laws which control even the 
pasture lands. An Alp master is chosen to act as a 
sort of policeman and road master combined. He 
looks after the pasture lands on his Alp. 

One day, Jules and his friend Lewis received per- 
mission to start on a chamois hunt. The chamois is 

*The yodel is a peculiar, far-reaching call used by the herds- 
men. 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



the only antelope of western Europe. It is a timid 
creature, weighing from forty to seventy pounds. To 
hunt the chamois requires a strong constitution, for 
there is hard climbing, it is so difficult to get within 
range. 

Jules and Lewis took a drink of warm blood be- 
fore starting, as that is considered an excellent pre- 
ventative for dizzi- 
ness. They hoped to 
come upon a herd of 
chamois feeding, eith- 
er in the morning or 
evening, as it is their 
habit to do. The 
chamois uncover the 
tender herbage or 
reindeer moss, with 
their feet, and while 
thus occupied may be 
approached more suc- 
cessfully. Failing to 
do this, the boys 
changed their plans, 
CHAMOIS and Jules, who was 

the better shot, took his station to wait, while Lewis 
went to scare up the game. 




SWITZERLAND. 



Lewis was more fortunate than he had dared 
hope. He actually found a herd of twenty or thirty. 
One of their number was acting as sentinel, being re- 
lieved every quarter of an hour by another. Almost 
as soon as Lewis perceived her, she became conscious 
of danger, and gave the alarm by stamping with her 
fore feet on the ground and uttering a shrill whistle. 
Lewis' had just time to aim at the white spot under 
the throat of one whose glossy coat showed him to be 
a desirable prize, when the whole herd scattered, leap- 
ing from rock to rock on their slender feet. He had 
fired, but he had missed. 

Jules, at his station, heard the report of the gun, 
and was all attention. Just then, around the curve in 
the ledge, came a chamois at such speed that she had 
time neither to leap down over the precipice, if indeed 
that were possible, nor to retrace her steps. Jules had 
no time to fire, and a collision seemed inevitable that 
must dash our young hunter to a horrible death. With 
wonderful presence of mind he did the only thing that 
could save his life — ^he threw himself upon his face 
and the chamois passed over him and away. 

Vexed at having missed such a rare opportunity, 
he shifted his position so as to be farther from the 
curve in the ledge. Hardly had he done so, when a , 
second animal came bounding toward him. Jules was 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



ready this time, and fired. At the same time the 
chamois, realizing the danger, leaped down over the 
precipice fully twenty-five feet to a lower ledge. Jules 
was half wild with vexation and disappointment. 
Waiting a few moments to see if another chance 
would present itself, he went in search of Lewis. 

The rest of the day was without any adventure, 
and at nightfall the boys built a rough shelter and 
were soon asleep, regardless of the threatening sky. 

Next morning the search began anew. This time 
success came, and it came early. Jules imprudently 
approached too near a small herd, and having reason 
to believe that he had been seen, he hung his hat on a 
stick so that it showed just above the rocks. Then by 
going a long way round, he was able to get within 
range without being discovered. One graceful crea- 
ture stood apart from the rest, having finished drink- 
ing from the salt spring where the others were still 
quenching their thirst. Her slender black horns rose 
straight from her forehead and curved backwards at 
the ends. She made an excellent mark as she stood 
motionless. Jules raised his gun and fired, and the 
beautiful animal fell, while her companions so quickly 
disappeared that Jules had no chance to venture an- 
other shot. 

Lewis came, on hearing his friend's joyful call. 



SWITZERLAND. 



Together they removed the entrails, that the load 
might be lightened, and then started homeward with 
the valuable prize. The flesh was a welcome addition 
to the plain food at the chalet, and the skin was care- 
fully dried to be sold in the city as material for gloves 
or breeches. Jules kept the horns as a trophy of his 
prowess. Perhaps some day when persistent hunting 
has made the chamois very rare, he will show his tro- 
phy to his children as they gather about him, and in 
response to their demand' for a story, will tell them 
how he killed a chamois. 

Jules's father once tried to tame a young chamois, 
but the attempt was unsuccessful; for, kept in a warm 
stable, the creature sickened and died, while in its na- 
tive air it might have lived thirty years. 

After this the men called Jules and Lewis "Our 
hunters," and a month later the men offered to do the 
work that belonged to the boys, while they took an- 
other holiday. 

This time nothing less than an ibex would satisfy 
the ambitious hunters. The ibex, or bouquetin, is a 
game that is very rare, and is found only on mountain 
peaks in herds of ten or fifteen. The ibex is a hand- 
some animal, four and a half feet long and two and a 
half feet high. He is covered in summer with short 
gray fur, which grows longer in winter, and is then of 



10 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



a yellowish color. The male has a short beard which 
remains during the winter, but disappears in the 
spring. He has immense, thick, flat horns, curving 
backwards. The horns of the female are only half as 
long. The hoofs are hard as steel, rough underneath, 



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and spreading. Such was the character of the prize 
which the boys hoped to secure. 

Since the fore legs of an ibex are shorter than 
the hind legs, he ascends more easily than he descends, 
so it is quite an object to approach him from above; 



SWITZERLAND. 11 



especially as his keen scent would readily detect the 
presence of an enemy below him, the currents of air 
coming from that direction. 

All night Jules and Lewis lay in the poorest kind 
of a shelter, afraid to build a fire, lest its smoke should 
betray their presence. Trying to sleep whenever they 
could forget their discomforts, and risking the dan- 
gers of a storm in the mountains, the long night 
seemed interminable. Rising at dawn, they set out 
to see if they might meet an ibex returning from the 
forests below, where he had been feeding during the 
night. This is exactly what did happen, and they shot 
a fine ibex whose horns alone measured fully a yard 
long and must have weighed sixteen or eighteen 
pounds. Each boy took a long drink of the warm 
blood, for it is said to cure pleurisy, and they were 
both suffering greatly from the night's exposure. The 
boys were now the heroes at the chalet, and had to 
I tell all about the hunt while the flesh was being eaten. 

Summer passes and it is near the end of August 
when the return to the village must take place. One 
night, a fire brighter than usual is built before the 
chalet. As the darkness deepens, other fires appear 
here and there on the mountains, as they have done 
on preceding nights. When the fire is brightest, the 
flaming logs are rolled to the edge of the cliff, and 



12 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

sent crashing into the valley below. Jules's mother, 
who is standing at her door-way watching the distant 
fire and praying that all may be well with her son, 
sees the shower of sparks as the logs come over the 
cliff, and hastens to spread the joyful news, "The 
herds are coming home." 

The next day looks upon a busy scene at the cha- 
let. Bunches of monks-hood adorn the hat of each 
man; the procession is formed, the cheese is loaded on 
pack mules, and the strange procession begins to move. 
Just outside the village the sheep are separated from 
the goats; and then, midst cheers and joyful greet- 
ings, the men enter the village and are home again. 

Jules's mother has many things to relate and some 
improvements to show that have been made under her 
direction to increase the value of the farms. She has 
carefully hoarded up every particle of fertilizing ma- 
terial, and has had it placed in spots where almost no 
soil existed; thus, by means of patience and hard 
work, making land where none had been. 

In the middle of the summer an Englishman had 
come to the door asking for lodging. He desired to 
study the country, and offered to pay well for what he 
received. The money was greatly needed, and Mr. 
Mace soon became a familiar sight in the little com- 
munity, as he tramped about in search of specimens 



SWITZERLAND. 13 



of plant or animal life. He discovered that, at the 
greater heights, insects were without wings; doubtless 
because the power of flight would be worse than use- 
less where the upward currents of air would carry 
them to snow regions whence they could not return. 
He had obtained specimens of the marmot,* Alpen 
hare, grouse, partridge, and wild duck, and had offered 
a rich reward for a lammergeyer,t dead or alive. But 
that fierce bird is fast becoming extinct, and even 
Jules, as his mother relates the story, is fired with no 
hope of claiming the reward. In Mr. Mace's collec- 
tion are all varieties of the crocus, anemone, geranium, 
gentian, primrose, butterwort, and even the common 
pinks that everywhere dot the fields. 

I want to stop just here to tell you what he wrote 
to me concerning the Alpen roses; for he was my un- 
cle, and I had asked him to send me some specimens. 
He said: "The Alpen roses grow on low bushes. They 
resemble azaleas of which you are so fond. The leaf 
and buds are protected by hu§ks. The blossoms vary 
in color from rose to carmine, the depth of color in- 
creasing with the altitutde. I was surprised to find 
that a blossom never withers, but falls in a crimson 
shower while at the height of its beauty. I have tried 

*The marmot is a rodent somewhat like the squirrel. 
fThe lammergeyer is a very large vulture. 



14 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



to transplant the shrub, but in no case has my attempt 
succeeded; a fact that is pecuhar, since, in its native 
element, it is so hardy. I picked a bunch to carry to 
the village, but it had faded before I had left the 
spot." 

Jules is eager to meet the gentleman of whom his 
mother has given such an interesting account, and he, 

too, yields to the charm 
of this white haired man 
whose kindly smile wins 
the affection of every- 
one. 

One stormy day he 
asked Jules to make him 
an Alp horn. Jules takes 
a piece of a young pine 
five feet long and hol- 
lows it out with a hot 
iron. He makes the sec- 
ond piece also of pine, 
but shapes it like a cup. 
almost eighteen inches 
long. Through this horn can be made a sound which 
heard from a distance or in the midst of echoes, is 
wonderfully sweet. 

Before winter comes, there are a thousand things 




SWITZERLAND. 15 



to do. Some of the hay has been cut, but there is 
still the wild hay. The day for cutting has been pre- 
viously announced, and early dawn finds the men al- 
ready far up in the mountains where each seeks to be 
first at the hay. Wild hay, although short, is strongly 
scented and is considered very choice. 

Of course you find Jules among the foremost. He 
is very nimble and anxious to gather every bit of grass 
his eyes may light upon. When his bundle grows 
heavy, he lets it down by ropes to a lower level, where 
he will later follow to spread out the grass to dry. 

Starting homeward after a day of hard work, 
Jules happens to meet his friend Lewis, who wants 
him to shorten the distance by crossing the glacier. 
Now the boys had no business to make such a fool- 
hardy venture; for the glacier, though narrow, is 
rough and dangerous. The explosions and the crack- 
ing of the straining ice should have warned them, but 
both boys are two well accustomed to danger to hesi- 
tate, and soon the boys are picking their way care- 
fully across, often leaping over deep fissures where a 
single slip would send one or both far down into a 
crevasse, beyond possible rescue. They have taken 
the precaution to tie the rope they have been using for 
hay about their waists, so that they are connected; 
but even this would be of little aid in case of a serious 



16 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

misstep. Their Alpen staffs are of great use. The 
seven feet of strong wood as large round as a broom 
stick has a sharp prong at one end which being plant- 
ed in the ice makes it possible to leap from point to 
point. 

No accident does befall the daring boys else my 
story would come to an untimely end, but it is a fool- 
ish risk to take. 

A little later both Jules and his mother hire out 
to work in the vineyards, when by an act of Commune* 
the grapes are declared ripe. Vineyards are found 
everywhere, in the lower valleys and on the sunny 
slopes. Jules with his short hooked knife proves to 
be of much assistance. 

The vintage being over, there is wood to cut. 
Now again Jules's skill in climbing is of value. The 
bundles of wood are let down by ropes as was the hay. 
There is a law to prevent a man cutting trees on his 
own land except by permission of the forester. The 
forests are a great protection from wind and storms, 
and are being cut down too rapidly. 

Soon the frosts come to open the chestnut burrs; 
and walnuts, too, must be gathered for winter use. 

*The Communes are political divisions of Switzerland, corre- 
sponding to our States. 



SWITZERLAND. 17 



Chestnuts are good whether boiled, roasted, eaten raw 
or ground into flour and baked in cakes. 

Before one is quite ready, the winter days have 
come; and while the warm fire burns merrily within, 
the fierce storms rage wildly without. 

Mr. Mace is still with them; and his interesting 
stories of travel help to pass the time pleasantly; 
while Jules is carving the pretty articles which he 
hopes to sell in the great city when spring comes. He 
is very skillful in carving, and hopes sometime to go 
to the city, and there obtain a position in a shop. 

A falling avalanche is an almost daily occurrence 
but is always to be dreaded lest it bury a bridge, 
house, or even an entire village. A rumbling noise 
like thunder accompanies the fall, and rushing to the 
door, one may see what resembles a waterfall but 
is really a fall of pounded ice, lasting some three 
or four minutes. The avalanche is usually caused by 
melting snow. 

Mr. Mace is standing at the door one day, when 
he says: "I wish an avalanche would come now so I 
could see it. It is just the right kind of a day for a 
good picture." Jules smiles and answers: "Get your 
camera here and focus it on yonder point." Wonder- 
ingly, Mr. Mace obeys, and then Jules steps inside 
and lifts his rifle from its place on the wall. From 



18 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

his position there at his own door he shoots toward 
the distant point in just the right way to dislodge the 
mass of snow, which requires only the weight of a 
straw to set it moving. Mr. Mace is almost too sur- 
prised and pleased to touch the spring, but remember- 
ing in time he takes what proves to be one of the finest 
pictures of a falling avalanche ever obtained. 

"I suppose/' says Mr. Mace, "if buried in snow up 
to one's neck, death would not result so long as the 
head were free." "You are wrong," is the reply. "The 
weight around the chest would be so great that the 
lungs could not expand and you would die for lack of 
breath." 

The cattle in the barns have been eating hay from 
the sheds, but there comes a time when the supply is 
exhausted, and the wild hay must be dug out from the 
huts where it was stored, and slid down to the place 
where it is needed. 

Jules has invited Mr. Mace to accompany him on 
this excursion, and he, ever ready for a new experi- 
ence, has readily accepted. Much practice has made 
him a daring climber, but he is totally unprepared for 
what is to follow. 

Jules lashes together three bundles of hay with a 
stout rope, and directs Mr. Mace to sit on top of the 
pile and hold on by the rope. Then, before the man 



SWITZERLAND. 19 



ha3 time to realize what is going on, the whole mass 
of hay is rushing down the slope at a fearful rate, 
while Jules has the double task of guiding the mass 
and keeping himself on top. Mr. Mace clings to the 
rope with an iron grip; while, every moment, he ex- 
pects to crash, into a snow bank. When the load comes 
to a stand still in the valley, he is really too nearly 
paralyzed to disentangle himself from the hay. 

Two weeks after this, Mr. Mace receives a letter 
which requires his return to his native country. Jules 
must drive him down to the city where he has to take 
the train, in a sledge shaped like one of the seats of a 
merry-go-round. Mr. Mace is shut in by a wooden 
frame made to move up and down on hinges. This 
frame is to protect the feet and lap of the passenger 
from falling snow. Jules takes his place on the sledge 
behind, passing the reins over Mr. Mace's shoulder. 
Then, taking a last look at the little house where he 
has spent so many pleasant hours, he is driven rapid- 
ly away. 

In an English magazine soon after, there appears 
an interesting account of Swiss life. I want to quote 
a few sentences, for it gives a truth which Mr. Mace 
could have discovered only by a thoughtful study of 
the country. He says: "Switzerland is noted for its 
well built carriage roads. In a country where every 



20 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

inch of the way has to be constructed over impassable 
obstacles, this is remarkable. A mule path down a 
sheer precipice is a common example of engineering 
skill. Few people realize how much labor has gone 
towards making Switzerland habitable, and how great 
a struggle is daily being carried on in order to wrest 
a livelihood from that rugged land." 

Two years after, a young man seeks entrance at 
a large factory in Geneva, Switzerland, and having 
won the heart of the manager by his honest face and 
skillful carving, is given work. Three years later, 
Jules has advanced so rapidly that he bids fair to be- 
come a most valuable assistant. So we may add his 
name to the long list of young men who by ready 
hands and willing hearts have won for themselves 
places of trust and responsibility. 



ARABIA. 21 



HASSAN, THE ARAB 

HE morning sun has risen high in the heavens 
as, far away in the distance, a long caravan 
is seen slowly approaching. Nearer and 
nearer comes the strange procession, straight toward 
the welcome shade of the palm trees and the well of 
cool water. 

This is the rich Al Kendi, who is going to pitch 
his tent here at the "Bitter Wells," that his flocks may 
have fresh pasture. He it is who rides at the head of 
the caravan upon a beautiful Arabian horse. His 
sharp-pointed lance gleams in the sunlight and shows 
by the manner in which it is held to what tribe its 
owner belongs. A silver mounted gun, a sabre, and a 
pistol are near at hand, for enemies are not rare in 
this desert country. 

As he leaps to the ground and stands ready to di- 
rect the pitching of the tent, he makes a striking pic- 
ture in his loose cotton gown which, reaches to the 
ankles. A cloth of wide brown and white stripes 
hangs gracefully from his shoulders. The fringes of 
the bright yellow silk head-dress are thrown back, as 
he no longer needs protection for his eyes. A cord of 



22 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



twisted hair bound about the head holds the head- 
dress securely. On his feet are sandals of a simple 
pattern. He seems a trifle undersized, but he is 
straight and well formed. From the lines marking 
his dark face, together with his dignified bearing, we 




try to read his character, and rightly judge him to be 
serious, polite, calm, but never quarrelsome. 

Though yesterday he was very angry with the 
arrogant Hamid, yet he did not once raise his voice; 
though deep down in his heart he was planning re- 



ARABIA. 23 

venge with which to overtake his enemy on the 
morrow. 

By nature physically strong and brave, he, like 
others of his race, shows a tendency to cruelty, said to 
be due to the milk and flesh of the camel, which is 
used so commonly for food. 

Very rapidly the tent rises. It is a large affair; 
to make it required sixteen pieces of cloth, each piece 
being forty cubits* long and two cubits wide. A scar- 
let carpet is hung to separate the men's part from 
that of the women. For furniture there are a num- 
ber of cushions filled with garments to be used as beds, 
and other cushions of tanned antelope skin, contain- 
ing wool, to be used to lean against. 

The woolen grain sacks, the money sacks, and 
sacks for jewels are carefully unloaded, and the tent 
is ready to be occupied. 

Al Kendi has four wives, each of whom has four 
sons, who have two wives and a son apiece; so you see 
it is a large family. There are four servants, eight 
negroes, seven valuable horses, two common ones, 
six asses, and two greyhounds also to be sheltered. 

Such an establishment would require a great sup- 
ply of food. There are six loads of corn, twelve loads 
of barley, eight of dates, fifteen ox skins of water, 

*A cubit is equal to about 18 inches. 



24 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

twelve sheep skins of butter, four deer skins of honey, 
gunpowder, etc. Al Kendi has depots of suppHes in 
various places, for he can carry supplies for only a 
limited time. 

He will stay here only two or three weeks as 
the pasturage will soon be exhausted, for there is a 
flock of at least eight thousand sheep, besides five 
camels and the ten goats which lead the sheep. 

Everyone takes an especial interest in little 
Hassan, who is a strong lad fast growing to be like 
his grandfather. His mother is that woman who 
wears a dark blue shawl thrown over her head. It 
falls at the back in .graceful folds to the feet. Her 
arms are heavily loaded with bracelets, and on her 
ankles are circlets of blue glass and of copper. 

Even though this work of erecting the tent is 
done quickly and easily by the many skillful hands, 
yet the day is filled with the duties pertaining to a 
new camping place. As the sun casts its last red rays 
over the sultry camp, a slight breeze springs up, and 
with the lengthening shadows, there arises all over 
the camp the bustle pertaining to the preparation of 
the one solid meal for the day. The servants will 
bake some thin cakes in the open oven. There will 
be mutton (always boiled) or camel's flesh, and possi- 
bly dates and fresh fruits. 



ARABIA. 



25 



After the meal is eaten the servant brings a basin 
of water in which her master washes his hands, and 
as she leaves the tent a second servant passes about 
with a covered censer of burning incense, until the 
hands and clothing of all are perfumed by the sweet 
odor. 

Young Hassan runs away to caress a beautiful 




black horse that is soon to become his own. Has not 
his grandfather said so ? Should poverty come to the 
family, this Arab steed would be the last possession 



26 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

with which to part. For him there are beautiful 
trappings of morocco embroidered in gold and silver. 

Not all Arabian horses are black. Some are 
sorrel, but the greater number are gray. 

I once saw a beautiful American horse compared 
and tested with an Arab steed. Each was a worthy- 
representative of its kind. The American horse easily 
won in the test for swiftness, but in beauty of form, 
intelligence, or even endurance, he was inferior to the 
other, who could in case of need carry his master at a 
canter from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, and 
that without water. As to intelligence, he seemed to 
understand everything. He turned at a light pressure 
of the knee and needed no bridle, while stirrups are a 
thing unknown. 

Tonight Hassan rubs the hoofs of his favorite 
with grease, for the day's journey has tended to crack 
the shoeless hoofs, and with his own hands he pre- 
pares a supper of barley and dates. He wants his 
horse to outrun even his grandfather's own priceless 
steed, and so dates will form a portion of the meal 
for they seem to strengthen the wind. No one but 
himself ever feeds his beloved horse, and he chooses 
the hay and measures the drinking water more care- 
fully than his mother oversees his own meals. 

Now Hassan calls his own pet greyhound to a 



ARABIA. 27 

supper of milk and dates. This dainty creature will 
not drink from a dirty dish nor taste milk which has 
been allowed to touch the fingers. 

Hassan adjusts a blanket comfortably about the 
greyhound, for it is a cool night, and such a delicate 
creature requires some protection from the cold. The 
thin nose of the hound is laid in the boy's hand with 
perfect confidence, and he thinks as he strokes the 
large forehead that nothing would persuade him to 
sell his pet. 

~ Once when Al Kendi had in his possession three 
young greyhounds, it was remarkable how many 
friends, previously unknown, appeared in the hope of 
obtaining a puppy as a gift. 

When Hassan's dog was only three months old he 
taught him to chase jerboas*, then to catch a hare, 
and now it is quite time to learn to chase a gazellet. 
When a dog is a year old his education should be com- 
pleted so that he may be ready to hunt with his 
master. 

The sun slowly sinks below the horizon, the stars 
come out, and presently the tent is wrapped in slum- 



*A jerboa, or "jumping mouse," is a small animal having the 
hind legs longer than the front ones. 

tA gazelle is a small antelope, noted for the soft expression of 
its large, dark eyes. 



28 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



ber, while the despised watch dogs guard the Hves 
and property entrusted to their care. 

The greyhound lies close beside his young mas- 
ter and shares with him the comforts of a night's rest. 

The morrow proves to be an eventful day. First 
there is the falcon, which is owned of only the very 
wealthy. How do you suppose they caught the fal- 
con? By a very clever trick. They placed a tame 

pigeon under a net,and 




then everyone hid 
from sight waiting for 
the wild falcon which 
had been seen several 
times of late. When 
the falcon caught 
sight of the pigeon he 
lost no time in swoop- 
ing down upon his 
prey; but his claws be- 
came entangled in the 
meshes of the net and 
his captors rushed out 
to hold him. Then they slipped a hood over his head, 
chained him to a perch, and thus he entered upon 
days of weary captivity. At first the bird was almost 
unmanageable with rage, and his harsh, angry cries 



ARABIA. • 29 

rent the air unceasingly. Then followed a spell of 
sullen silence, and then began the first efforts toward 
taming him. 

Every day Al Kendi is accustomed to remove the 
hood f roni the bird's head while he talks to his captive, 
that the human voice may become a familiar sound. 

To-day a new lesson is to be taught the falcon and 
Hassan is there to see it. A servant brings out a hare 
and fastens it by a cord, that it may run about with- 
out getting away. Then the falcon is brought out, 
and someone removes the hood. For a moment the 
bird stands blinking in the strong light, then a move- 
ment from the hare attracts his attention. There is 
a sudden rushing of wings and the falcon has risen 
above the heads of all. For an instant he remains 
poised in the air, and then with a sudden swoop de- 
scends upon the luckless hare-. Some one hastens to 
give the bird a portion of the prey he has secured. 
This lesson will have to be repeated day after day 
until he has learned to await his portion of the gains 
without attempting to devour it at once. 

Scarcely is the lesson over, before in the distance 
is seen an approaching caravan. Alarm is felt at first, 
and suspense, until the question is settled w;hether it 
bring friend or foe. While the riders are yet like dots 
in the distance, Al Kendi decides they are not enemies; 



30 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

a few moments more and he pronounces them to be 
members of his own tribe. 

Prolonged and elaborate salutations pass between 
host and guests, after which the visitors are escorted 
to a small reception tent made comfortable with rugs 
and traveling cushions. A servant brings in a cov- 
ered censer, and incense is burned in honor of the 
guests. Coffee is ordered. The servant must roast 
the grains and pound them before the coffee can be 
boiled, so there will be plenty of time for conversa- 
tion before it is brought in. Al Kendi is in the habit 
of ordering his coffee to be thus prepared whenever 
he may desire it, and he has a special servant whose 
duty it is to attend to this work. 

These visitors are taking a flock of sheep and 
some camels to the nearest town, where they hope 
also to sell the wool and ostrich feathers they are car- 
rying. They will return with a supply of grain and 
some new weapons. The Sheik will divide the profits 
among the men of his tribe with justice and equity, as 
it is his duty to do. 

The Sheik has sent a message to Al Kendi re- 
questing that he join the tribe as soon as convenient, 
as his presence is needed in a matter of great im- 
portance. 

While the message is being delivered, gusts of hot 



ARABIA. 



3v 



wind have been blowing, and a violet hue is deepening 
on the horizon. A servant hurriedly comes into the 
tent and tells of the danger that threatens. All is 
confusion, as men and beasts seek shelter from the 
dreaded sirocco*. Soon it becomes quite dark, al- 
though there is no sand flying to dim the sun. The 
danger is from the burning heat that follows. One's 
only hope is to bury the 
face in the blankets and 
breathe the air that is 
under them until the 
blasting heat is passed, 
as it will be in a few ter- 
rible moments. An over- 
powering weakness i s 
counted one of the worst 
effects of the sirocco. It 
makes the least exertion 
impossible, but night 
will have brought relief, 
and early in the morning the visitors must depart. 

Rising to see the caravan depart, Hassan is in 
time to help gather locusts. For the great ruin which 
they cause to all vegetation, the locusts are punished; 
as they, in turn, are eaten by all animals. Being too 

*A periodical, warm, south wind. 




32 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



heavy for flight they are easily caught. Red locusts 
are better to eat than green ones. They are caught in 
the morning when their wings are heavy with dew 
and when they are dulled by the cold. A servant will 
boil them and pull off the hopping legs. When they 
are served to you, you should take each locust by the 
wings and dip him in salt. You will find him a de- 
licious morsel, quite like a vegetable in taste. 

It is now the middle of summer, the time when 
the ostrich is less powerful, and, therefore, the best 
time for hunting him. For a week the horses have 
been carefully trained in preparation for this coming 
exertion. 

To-day a party is to start on a hunting expedition. 
Hassan wants to go, but he is not allowed to do so, 
and must be content with hearing about it all when 
the hunters return. 

The hunters are five Arabs, each lightly clothed, 
and armed with a stick four or five feet long that is 
very heavy at one end. A baggage camel is loaded 
with the necessary provisions. Scouts are sent ahead 
to locate a flock. When the birds are sighted, one re- 
mains to mark the place while the others return to 
bring the hunters. 

The whole company approaches as near as they 
dare. The baggage is left and the horsemen advance 



ARABIA. 33 

and surround the ostrich. When they have taken 
their station, a servant is sent on to alarm the ostrich. 
Becoming frightened, the bird runs about the circle 
until exhausted. Then he is despatched by a blow on 
the bald spot of the head. 

The skin is removed without injuring the feath- 
ers and salt is sprinkled over the carcass, but the fat 
is boiled and poured into bags. Returning to the bag- 
gage, all rest for forty-eight hours before starting 
homeward. . 

If it were in November or January they would 
search for the nest with the hope of shooting an os- 
trich on the eggs. If they chanced to find the nest 
deserted, they would dig a hole on either side of the 
nest. In each hole they would station a man so hid- 
den that only the barrel of his gun would protrude. 

Should the female return first she would meet her 
death, and the male, when he came to investigate, 
would meet a similar fate. 

On the other hand, if the female became alarmed 
when she returned to her nest, she would run to meet 
the male and communicate to him her fears, where- 
upon he would treat her alarm as groundless and in- 
sist upon investigating the suspected ground, and 
meet a severe punishment for doubting the prudence 
of his mate. 



34 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



The home life of the ostrich is very interesting. 
His four or five wives lay eggs in a common nest un- 
til there are thirty or more eggs inside and as many 
more scattered about to be used as food for the young 
birds. The father assumes chief charge of the nest 

and sits on the eggs at 
night. The work is 
shared during the day, 
it being necessary that 
one be always near to 
protect the eggs, al- 
though the heat of the 
sun could do all the 
hatching. It is the fath- 
er bird who assists the 
young ones in chipping 
the shell, and it is he 
who fights for the de- 
fense of the chicks, while 
the mother takes care of herself only. 

A male ostrich weighs three hundred pounds and 
is about eight feet high. He possesses the most val- 
uable feathers. When not occupied in laying eggs, 
the birds roam in companies of thirty or forty and 
usually together with antelopes or gazelles. 

Our hunters would like nothing better than an 




ARABIA. 35 

exciting chase after a company of gazelles, but it is 
summer and not so good a season for that sport as 
winter, when the dampness of the sand retards the 
gazelles. 

The hounds in full chase after four or five hun- 
dred gazelles, would furnish a form of excitement 
very dear to the heart of an Arab hunter. 

But slowly the hunters retrace their steps and 
find the camp in a state of confusion. Since pastur- 
age has become so scarce it has been decided that 
a move is necessary. Mindful of the wishes of the 
Sheik, our Al Kendi turns his caravan eastward. 
Traveling by starlight and resting when the heat of 
the midday sun becomes intolerable, the caravan 
moves onward. 

Now we see how admirably adapted the camel is 
for desert travel. Six days in summer and ten in 
winter is the limit of his ability to do without water, 
but he can travel five or six miles an hour during fif- 
teen hours every day for a week. Then, too, he is 
easily fed — can live on. thorns, dried grass, or cacti. 
When extra hard work is to be done, he is given a 
pound paste ball of barley. 

The milk of the camel is good to drink, although 
no kind of butter or cheese can be made from it. The 
wool is made into cloth for wearing and for tents, and 



36 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

the flesh is eaten, although it is poor and rather taste- 
less. The broad, spreading hoofs support the camel 
on the soft sands, where a slender hoof would make 
progress difficult. While he would not throw you off, 
neither would he stop if you were to fall off, and he 
never fails to show his objections to your mounting by 
groans and efforts to bite. The ordinary color is red- 
dish brown, but an occasional animal is gray or almost 
white. A dromedary is only a high bred camel; the 
number of humps has nothing to do with his being 
called a dromedary. 

A saddle is placed on the hump, a halter is ad- 
justed for a rein, a stout stick is secured for a whip, 
and the so called "ship of the desert" is ready to start. 

As the caravan passes over sandy soil, the desert 
scorpion becomes annoying. Its reddish body, al- 
though only a quarter of an inch long, seems all claws, 
and tail. The sting leaves a pain like a sharp prick, 
lasting about an hour. 

A buzzard now and then is seen crossing the blue 
sky far over head; he is waiting for the refuse from 
the caravan. The strong wing bones that support 
this bird so high in the air are used for ornamental 
purposes in place of the ivory which they so closely 
resemble. 

On the fourth day, the tired travelers see in the 



ARABIA. 



37 



distance a cluster of tents and the shining leaves of 

the date palms. Once more they camp, and this time 

the tent of Al Kendi 

is pitched next to that 

of the aged Sheik 

Hakem. 

This old Sheik was 
chosen, to govern the 
tribe when he was a 
much younger man 
than he is now. Al- 
though a man of influ- 
ence, he does not pos- 
sess absolute power. 
He acts as judge in 
cases of dispute, or 
measures out punish- 
ment to the evil-doer. 

All the men are 
herdsmen by occupa- 
tion, except the far- 
riers who are also 
smiths. These are 
supported by the tribe 
and are not required 
to engage in warfare. 




38 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

Slavery is quite common among the Arabs. On 
important occasions, such as a marriage, or a death 
in the family, the day is marked by the freeing of a 
slave. 

Each tribe controls a certain territory. When a 
stranger enters this land he must pay tribute, in re- 
turn for which he receives safe passage to the terri- 
tory of the next tribe, where a second tribute is 
demanded. 

Although hospitable and charitable, these Arabs 
feel no responsibility after a guest has departed, and 
may overtake and rob one who has but recently been 
under their protection, while to rob an enemy is 
praise-worthy. 

We are unable to ascertain just what was the im- 
portant business that required Al Kendi's presence. 
Doubtless it had something to do with the division of 
money received from the sale of the last flock cf 
sheep. 

But we have already overstayed our time, ard 
must be content with this glimpse of desert life. 

We doubt not that Al Kendi will again leave the 
tribe and resume the wandering life. Hassan will 
grow to be like his father and like his father's father 
— ^Al Kendi; proud in the possession of a flock of 
sheep, a noble steed, and a swift greyhound. 



AFRICA 39 




AFRICA 

KONGO 

E ARE standing today on the banks of the 
Nile, where is assembled a strange company 
of people to witness an important ceremony. 
About the 10th of last June, the waters of the Nile 
began to rise. At first the river was filthy and green 
with the decayed vegetation that was being washed 
down from the mountains by heavy rains. As the 
volume of water increased, the river became pure; 
and last week, which was the first week in October, 
there came a sudden flood which from now on will 
gradually subside until next June. 

In former years a beautiful maiden was cast into 
the seething waters to please the gods and insure an 
abundant harvest; but the custom has changed, and 
today a doll will symbolize the sacrifice. 

The rate of land tax has gradually increased since 
June, the value of the land being greater when water 
is abundant. Yesterday the irrigating ditches were 



40 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

opened, and agriculture will soon be possible. So very 
slowly does the water soak through the land that the 
wells do not often fill until the waters have begun to 
recede. There is a rich mud left by the subsiding 
waters, which dries in the hot sun and is carried in 
cakes to the distant fields where it is needed. 

In the life about us the negro seems to be an im- 
portant factor, but to see him in his native home, we 
must go far inland where few white men have ven- 
tured. 

For days we force our boat up stream against the 
descending current, only to find, when we reach the 
Nubian Nile, that a rocky barrier blocks our course. 
As we stop in despair, some half naked negroes ap- 
pear on the shore, seeming by their strange gestures 
to be offering assistance. We go to them, and a bar- 
gain is quickly made with the "cataract men," who 
successfully tow our boat over the difficult places. 
Six cataracts bar our passage and six times we are 
towed by the cataract men, but between these places 
the water is calm and easily navigated. 

Finally we are rewarded by seeing on the shore a 
cluster of huts, and we know that we have at last 
reached the home of Kongo, the Negro boy. 

A thick hedge surrounds the village of tiny huts. 
The circular walls are formed by stout poles driven 



AFRICA. 



41 



into the ground. A roof of rushes rests on the wall 
and tapers like an umbrella towards a center pole 
where it is secured. 

Kongo is in the midst of a party of returned 
hunters, and seems to be actively engaged in prepara- 




tions for a feast. The costume of all seems to be a 
slight drapery of leaves hung from a slender waist 
cloth. In a neighboring tribe the people wear two 
long tails of some wild animal dragging down behind 



42 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

them, a style of dress which is as awkward as it is 
peculiar. 

What is Kongo doing? Yes, it is butter that he 
has, but he is rubbing it over his body; and now he is 
actually rolling himself in a heap of ashes, until he 
emerges covered with a coat of gray that will afford 
protection from the sun. This done, he proceeds to 
kindle a fire. He uses a block of hard wood in which 
a small hollow place has been made, and a stick that 
will just fit into the holes. Now he twirls the stick 
around and around until enough heat has been made 
by the friction to set fire to some wisps of grass. 

There is an abundance of meat to-day, and a de- 
lecious stew will be served in one common dish. All 
day a woman has been grinding corn. Plenty of dirt 
is mixed with the meal that covers the flat stone, but 
the corn cakes baked in the ashes are a very welcome 
addition to the meal. Kongo and the others are eager- 
ly dipping their hands into the dish of stew; and with 
what a look of satisfaction does he lick his fingers be- 
fore thrusting his hand again into the stew ! 

Each man has his hair dressed according to his 
own taste, but the prevailing custom seems to be a 
multitude of knobs formed with gum, clay, or grease, 
and stiffened with strings of bark cloth. This gro- 
tesque decoration is never undone, but is increased 



AFRICA. 43 

year after year and never reaches a state of comple- 
tion. The front teeth have been filed to sharp points. 
The body is covered with tattooed figures which, ap- 
pearing on the face, sadly disfigure features that 
would otherwise be handsome. 

The women wear a large ring through the upper 
lip. This they call the "Pelele." In other tribes the 
women wear a circular plate of metal which distends 
the lip so that it hangs down to the chin, while bits of 
straw thrust through the nostrils increase the start- 
ling effect. 

The meal being over, it is quite evident that an 
important ceremony is about to take place. The chief 
is about to perform the ceremony of "blood-brother- 
hood" with the strange looking man from the Dinka 
tribe. The stranger wears a head dress of waving 
ostrich plumes. His long, slender legs somehow call 
to your mind the form of a great stork; but the like- 
ness would be more complete were you to see this 
Dinka man standing motionless among the tall grasses 
on one leg, while the foot of the other is resting just 
above the knee of the leg he is using. He is able to 
stand in this trying position for hours. 

All the dark forms are seated about the chief 
actors. A third man produces a sharp instrument 
with which he pricks the arm of his chief and pro- 



44 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

duces a similar wound on the arm of the Dinka man. 
As the arms are being rubbed together the two 
streams of blood mingle, and henceforth the men are 
as brothers. 

So many days have been spent in hunting, that 
other duties have been neglected, and tomorrow we 
see a very busy company. Kongo's father is digging 
out a tree trunk for a canoe. Another man is making 
a signal drum by fitting a skin over the end of a hol- 
low stump. This drum will call the people together 
in times of sudden danger, but more frequently will 
it be used to transmit messages to places within reach 
of its deep tones. 

Three men are engaged in clearing the ground 
for a garden. Each man climbs a tree and cuts down 
enough small branches to cover the ground beneath 
him. When the proposed garden is covered, the 
branches are set on fire, and all the obstructing under- 
growth is burned off. After a rain, a rough hoe will 
be used to break the soil, and the seed will be planted. 

Very little time is spent in such peaceful occupa- 
tions. Many days must be occupied in hunting for 
food, or to kill the animals that threaten to destroy 
life and property. We who have seen the elephant 
only when he is closely guarded and carefully con- 
fined, can hardly realize that in this portion of Africa 



AFRICA. 45 

the elephant is free. He is Hable to make an unwel- 
come visit to the cane fields, tramp about, and then 
go away before the owner of the field has been in- 
formed of the damage done. 

The great beasts are fast being killed off for their 
valuable tusks of ivory; and some writers say it w 11 
be a good thing for Africa when the last tusk has been 
sold, for so long as the trade in ivory lasts, little at- 
tention will be paid to the other resources of the 
country. 

In a few days a hunting party is organized, and 
Kongo, as usual, is first to be counted among those 
who start in pursuit of a certain destructive elephant 
that has twice visited his father's cane fields. 

A journey of several days into the dense jungle 
brings the men to a broad stream of water, and cer- 
tain tracks indicate this to be a favorite drinking 
place of elephants. 

Hoping the animal will return, the men dig a 
deep pit and cunningly cover it with branches. Now, 
an elephant has a division in his stomach which will 
hold ten gallons of water, to be forced up into his 
trunk at will; so it is often several days before he 
again seeks water. The pit being completed, the men 
take refuge in trees to wait for their victim. Not 
until the next day are they rewarded by the sound of 



46 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

crashing branches and a heavy tread approaching the 
stream, but, alas ! on the opposite bank, while despair 
enters the heart of each hunter. 

A low note from the mouth of the great beast in- 
dicates his extreme thirst and discomfort; but at sight 
of water, he blows a shrill note through his trunk to 
show his pleasure. Although possessing keen scent 
and acute hearing, he is unconscious of the enraged 
hunters who are watching him. 

His thirst being satisfied, the elephant comes 
wading out into mid stream until the water reaches 
his back; then, as he swims directly towards the men, 
they see only his uplifted trunk, so deeply does he 
swim. Slowly and heavily his dripping body gains the 
bank, and immediately a strange rage seems to have 
seized him. An angry roar issues from his throat; 
and as he tears up the young trees, he shows himself 
to be a rogue elephant. When an elephant becomes 
a nuisance to a herd on account of his vicious and de- 
structive habits, he is expelled from the herd and 
roams by himself, a fierce and dangerous creature to 
meet. 

Kongo, seeing a chance to attract the rogue's at- 
tention to himself, and thus cause him to cross the 
pit, has made a slight movement which reaches the 
ear of the beast, who, however, misses the pit by a 



AFRICA. 



47 



foot only, and comes at the tree in an angry rage. 
He tears at the tree with his tusks; but it is too 
strong, and Kongo does not fall from his refuge, as 
he began to fear he must do. 

Now Kongo's father, fearing for his son's life, 
shouts to divert the beast's attention. This attempt 
is so successful that, with a fresh roar the beast turns 
about. With trunk held high out of danger, for in- 
stinct has taught him to 
guard his trunk lest he 
be powerless to reach 
food, he charges with 
gleaming tusks straight 
across the pit, and falls 
into the trap set for him, 
where all his struggles 
avail him nothing. When 
he becomes exhausted, 
some well directed ar- 
rows put an end to his 
struggles. 

The party proving too small to carry home as 
much meat as is needed, it is decided that two men be 
left to guard the carcass, while the others return for 
reinforcements. First,however, the tusks are removed, 
and being somewhat larger than the average, are esti- 




LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



mated to weigh close to thirty pounds. They are so 
closely imbedded in the upper jaw that they can be 
detached only by the aid of a saw. The ivory seems 
valuable, but that can be told only by the experienced 
eye, for a tiny spot in the end might indicate a split 
extending the entire length of the tusk and rendering 
it worthless. Carefully the tusks are wrapped, that 
injury may not befall the precious ivory, and the 
hunters depart, leaving Kongo and his father on 
guard. 

As night approaches they build a bright fire and 
prepare to spend the night in the trees. Kongo may 
have been sleeping an hour, when he is awakened by 
a low moan which gradually increases in power to a 
distant thunder. Six times this roar breaks the still- 
ness, each ~time increasing in power and then dying 
away. Suddenly from the right a deeper and heavier 
roar is heard, answering the first; and even brave 
Kongo shakes in his safe resting place as the lion's 
answer is heard. Peeping down past the dull fire, he 
tries to distinguish the form of a lion, but the tawny 
color is not easily noted by day, and is quite invisible 
by night. 

Silence again reigns, and Kongo falls asleep, not 
to wake until daybreak. The men are about to de- 
scend for breakfast when they are arrested by the 



AFRICA. 49 

sound of breaking twigs, and there appears a lioness 
accompanied by her two cubs. She would surely 
measure eleven or twelve feet from nose to tip of tail, 
and at least three and a half feet from foot to shoul- 
der. In five hundred pounds, which she probably 
weighs, is combined, in comparatively small compass, 
great strength with grace and nimbleness. She could 
easily drag off a man, and possibly an ox. A lion has 
been known to defeat an elephant in battle, and Kongo 
has heard how two hundred fifty men were once put 
to flight by an enraged lioness. 

A peculiar change comes over the creature. She 
crouches close to the ground as, with her gleaming 
eyes fixed on the thicket beyond, she pauses for a 
spring. The graceful limbs are drawn together, and 
with marvelous power the tawny creature leaps full 
thirty feet into the thicket, her eyes tightly closed. 
A roar of anger tells of an escaped prey, and she 
bounds away in pursuit, leaving her two bewildered 
cubs. Almost immediately there appears a heavy, 
yellow maned lion, who is no doubt the father of these 
deserted children. He seems to understand the situa- 
tion, and with his mane rising in anger, he calls the 
cubs, and together they trot off after the lioness. 

A very young cub is about as large as a full grown 
cat. Although their eyes are open, the children are 



50 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



helpless for several weeks, but they are faithfully pro- 
tected by their father and mother. The father makes 
a lair for himself within call, for he seems to be an- 
noyed by the demands of a restless family and prefers 
to live by him- 
self, although he 
will hasten to 
their defense. 
Next evening 
just at twilight a 
leopard comes 
prowling around 
the place. He is 
not seeking the 
carcass of the 
elephant, for he 
will eat no meat 
that he himself 
has not killed. 

But let us see 
what has become 
of the party whose return Kongo is so patiently 
awaiting. We find they have traveled all day, and 
when night comes the weary men throw themselves 
down by the bright fire to eat their supper and to 
sleep. Three hours later a scream of pain from one 




AFRICA. 51 

of 'the men brings the company to their feet in time 
to see a dark form bound past them into the forest. 
The fire had burned low, and the man, who had placed 
his head toward the fire, was only partly within the 
circle of light. A cowardly hyena had persistently 
followed them all day, and when the fire burned low, 
had snatched at the foot of the unsuspecting sleeper 
as he lay in the shadow. The cruel jaws have done 
their work, and the poor fellow will never walk again. 

The remainder of the journey is without accident, 
and several important additions are made to the load. 

The men are too tired to talk, and the silence is 
unbroken save for the occasional interruption caused 
by the flight of a bird over head. Perhaps Gozo, be- 
ing young and strong, is more often tempted to make 
a chance shot. He is counted a fair marksman, and 
when he spied a lark soaring high over head he 
touched the man just in front, saying: "See me shoot 
the lark." 

"Not while he flies so high," was the answer. 
"He is far out of range." Gozo must have realized 
this to be true, for the arrow rested in his bow while 
the young marksman covered the tiny spot barely 
visible against the deep blue of the sky. The little 
band gathered about him. Interest was written on 
the face of one, scorn on the face of another, while a 



52 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

third showed the tolerant indulgence that a master of 
an art shows to an aspiring beginner. 

And while the dark faces were thus regarding the 
lark, the tiny speck grew larger and larger until it 
was almost within range. Then, when it seemed so 
near death, it rested in the air just out of reach; and 
when Gozo was about to turn away in anger, the bird 
swooped down and seized a small prize and was back 
again high above danger, before Gozo could take aim. 

The laugh of the men did not help to quiet Gozo's 
nerves. Still his arrow pointed at the tantalizing 
bird, and when the swift trick was about to be re- 
peated he sent his arrow, swift and straight, toward 
the approaching mark. But his aim had been too 
hurried, and again his failure brought ridicule from 
his companions. Stamping his foot with anger, he 
snatched a second arrow, fitted it mto the bow, and 
waited. Fortune favored him, and this shot was 
successful. 

It was several hours after this that the large, 
fierce-looking man who led the march stopped sud- 
denly, upon hearing a strange cry like "kulu, kulu," 
in the branches overhead. "It is a kulu bird," he said, 
and straightway all eyes were directed towards a gray 
plantain bird which, being unable to fly, save from 
tree to tree, was moving so rapidly from branch to 



AFRICA. 53 

branch as to make quite a troublesome mark. The 
great Negro wanted the wing of a plantain bird to 
wear in his hair, as a token that he had killed a man 
in battle, so the "kulu" bird was brought to earth. 

Soon after this, as the party were on a slight ele- 
vation, they saw before them a laughable sight in the 
hollow beyond. A whydah finch was proudly strut- 
ting up and down, ruffling his beautiful plumage in 
the sunlight, that its rich colors might catch the 
gleam of the sunbeams, to dazzle the eyes of his six 
plainly attired wives, who were looking on in undis- 
guised admiration. As he awkwardly dragged his 
heavy tail feathers on the ground behind him, I have 
no doubt that each poor wife was wishing fate had 
destined her to be such an object of beauty, instead 
of a little brown wife. 

Becoming alarmed by the approaching party, the 
six plain little creatures rose lightly into the air and 
were instantly safe; while the object of their admira- 
tion, being weighted down by his heavy plumage, was 
unable to escape. Verily, "pride goeth before a fall." 

While they were dealing death to the unfortunate 
whydah finch, Gozo discovered a weaver bird's nest at 
the end of the branch of a thorn tree. It was so 
placed because its wise little weaver knew that no 
large enemy would venture out on so slender a branch. 



54 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

The bird would have made a long, narrow entrance, if 
she had not placed her home so near a hornet's nest, 
for no hawk would brave the dangers of a swarm of 
hornets. It is only man who is the enemy against 
whom neither strength of beasts nor wiles of birds 
can prevail. 

Had you or I been a member of this company, we 
might have looked for monkeys and wondered why 
none are to be seen, when the books say this is their 
home. Gozo knows they are all about him; he feels 
their bright eyes peering at him from the branches, 
but they are cunningly hidden, and such ignorant 
people as you or I would never have guessed their 
existence, 

A wise student has discovered that the creatures 
living in the woods all day have fine skins and smooth 
hair, while those that seek their prey by night have a 
thick coat and eyes formed to admit a large pencil of 
light. 

All hardships must come to an end, and so in the 
course of time the village is reached. Their arrival 
has been eagerly awaited by the villagers, who now 
crowd about and ask innumerable questions concern- 
ing the result of the hunt. The ivory is carefully 
unwrapped, and all stand breathlessly expectant, 
while an old man of the village examines it. He is 



AFRICA. 



55 



accorded to be the best judge of ivory in the village, 
and there is a great murmur of relief when he finally 
pronounces it to be perfectly sound and of great 
value. 

Now a relief party must be organized to return 
for the patient Kongo and his father. Gozo will lead 
them to the spot, and they will bring back to the vil- 
lage the great car- 
cass of the ele- 
phant. 

Five days after 
his return, Kongo 
and a party of four 
come upon a rhi- 
noceros fast asleepo 
Fortunately a rhi- 
noceros roams sing- 
ly, or with only his 
mate ; a herd of such 
fierce creatures would be an unwelcome sight. Now, 
the men want the horns, and in spite of danger they 
creep up until they can strike a point just back of the 
shoulder. A shower of arrows brings the rhinoceros 
to his feet, though many of the arrows fail to pene- 
trate his tough hide. However, some of the shots 
reach the lungs, and he is visibly weakened. A 




56 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

second shower of arrows does the work, and mad- 
dened and bhnded, the great creature sinks to the 
earth. The horns are eagerly secured, for they are 
solid. The surface is white and smooth, a result of 
friction in the bushes. They are easily detached, for 
they grow only to the skin; but on the skull, just under 
the base of the horns, is a bunch on which rests the 
weight of the horns; an arrangement which prevents 
a shock to the brain when the animal charges. The 
upper lip, which overhangs the lower, is pointed, that 
he may more easily strip the leaves from the branches. 
His small eyes, though they seemed so bright, were 
not able to see far. 

I used to confuse the rhinoceros with the hippo- 
potamus or river horse, but now I know they are very 
different. The hippopotamus is a water animal, and 
loves to lie buried in the water, showing only a nar- 
row line from ears to nose. He is hunted for the four 
lower teeth that are a good substitute for ivory, and 
the natives think his flesh good to eat. A trap is set 
in such a way that when the hippopotamus steps on a 
certain spring a heavy spear drops upon him. 

Kongo has proven himself brave, but he is often 
very imprudent. Coming to a stream of water one 
day, he decided he would like to take a bath, and be- 
ing joined by his companion, both laid down their 



AFRICA. 



57 



weapons. Kongo, who was the quickest, was first to 
plunge into the water, right in front of the open jaws 
of an ugly crocodile, who had been lying in wait for 
just such a chance as this. With a yell of terror, 
Kongo seized a strong branch that hung down into 




the water and drew himself out of reach of the dis- 
appointed crocodile. Kongo's companion sent an ar- 
row towards the eyes of the creature, but he missed 
his mark. 

All portions of a crocodile are protected by a 



58 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

tough, leathery skin, marked like shingles, so that you 
may hope to kill only by shooting through the eyes, 
or by reaching the other vulnerable spot, which is in 
the shoulder. 

Now, Kongo should have known better than to 
jump into the water, without first looking for croco- 
diles, for one might have been sleepily basking on the 
bank. Many persons have been thrown into the water 
by a stroke of the powerful tail, and dragged away to 
be devoured. Although only the lower jaw is mova- 
ble, certainly good use is made of what motion there 
is. Kongo found some crocodile eggs that had been 
left to hatch in the sun, although the mother was 
probably watching them while sunning herself on 
the bank. 

I must not forget to tell you how Kongo found 
some wild bees. When he found them swarming, he 
placed a hollow log up in the branches where the bees 
were. A few months after, he built a fire under the 
trees. Then he lowered the log over the fire, smoked 
out the bees, and took the honey for himself. 

Near Kongo's village is a gray mound, thirty feet 
high, which covers the storehouse of a swarm of white 
ants. The eggs are all laid by the queen, who is fed 
and carefully guarded by her faithful attendants, who 
block up the entrance to her dome-shaped chamber if 



AFRICA. 59 

danger threatens. The workers wear pincers, and are 
thus distinguished from the others. 

I suppose you have concluded by this time that 
Kongo's Hf e is one long story of adventure and suc- 
cessful hunting, with now and then a thrilling escape 
from death, which only adds an element of excitement 
to his existence. 

I wonder what you would think if you were to see 
that dark streak moving along the ground straight 
toward Kongo's hut. Now, Kongo, like any boy, is on 
hand if there is anything to be seen, and he knows 
that the advancing line is a column of soldier ants, 
several yards long. He has often been bitten by them, 
and remembers how their pincers remained in the 
flesh to cause pain long after the ant had been killed. 
There is only one thing to be done to check the army. 
Quickly calling for help, he lights a torch, and when 
the column meets the flaming obstacle their march is 
checked, they slightly alter their course, and pass by 
on the other side. So the bright eyes of a boy are of 
some use, even in a wild African jungle. 

Bright as he is, Kongo often gets into some very 
disagreable situations. For example : he once chanced 
to brush against an overhanging branch in which 
some red ants had built their nest. Down they came, 
swarming upon his head and shoulders until he danced 



60 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

with pain. Half wild with suffering, he ran to a pool 
of water, which chanced to be near, and plunged in. 
He had reason to remember this encounter for a long 
time. 

The poor animals suffer from a worse torment 
than either ant, or snake, or preying lion. It is the 
tse-tse fly, which wars against horses and cattle alone. 
There is no cure for the bite of this fly, and what 
makes help doubly difficult is the fact that eight or 
nine days may pass before a cow shows signs of hav- 
ing been bitten. Then sickness, weakness, blindness, 
and death follow in rapid succession. 

We have naturally been thinking only of the oc- 
cupation and adventures that interest Kongo, but the 
women of the village are seldom idle. There are 
many duties connected with the household life. When 
a bunch of bananas is brought to the hut they must 
be made into the much needed banana flour. The 
green bananas can be roasted, and the members of any 
African family are very fond of that sort of wine that 
is made from the juice of the flower bud. 

When this work is done, there are peach trees to 
be pruned, fields of millet that require the kind of 
rude care that the women can give, Indian corn to be 
planted or hoed, sweet potatoes to be dug. There are 



AFRICA. 61 

^ 

limes* to be picked, and ground nuts to be gathered. 
In fact, these African women have many duties, which 
more than make up for the simplicity of their house- 
keeping. 

Near the banks of the Nile grows the papyrus 
reed, a long smooth stem three to six feet long. Years 
before paper was invented, people unrolled this stem 
and used the sheet thus obtained for writing pur- 
poses. Kongo and his people do not often need pa- 
pyrus for writing, but he twists it into ropes, and his 
mother cooks the roots. 

Let us take a farewell look at Kongo as he leans 
against the baobab tree; and as we turn again to our 
own country, may the picture of this wild region re- 
main as clear as it is to-day. 

Let us hope that the many resources of Africa 
may be opened up and developed, as much for the 
benefit of the Negro as for the sake of other conti- 
nents. Sometime Africa must take the place among 
the continents that is hers by right of natural 
advantages. 

*A fruit resembling the lemon, but smaller and more highly 
acid. 




62 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



ESKIMO 

KUDLU 

LOSE to the shore of a bay that indents the 
Arctic coast, is a tiny hut, the home of an 
Eskimo called Narmick, his wife Sassumack, 
and their son Kudlu. 

By their features, they clearly show that they 
belong to the Mongolian* race. They call themselves 
"Innuit," a name meaning "men," or "the people," 
while the name Eskimo that we have given them, sig- 
nifies "eaters of raw flesh." 

Narmick is short, but well built. His black hair 
lies straight over his forehead. Sassumack wears her 
hair in a stiff tuft which rises straight up from the 
crown of her head. Both wear short, scant trousers 
of deer skin or seal skin, and jackets of the same ma- 
terial, which have to be drawn over the head, there 
being no front opening. The hood on Sassumack's 
jacket is larger, to provide for the carrying of a baby. 
On the feet are shoes, nicely made and fitting per- 

*To the Mongolian race belong also the Chinese and Japanese. 



GREENLAND. 



63 



f ectly. On a cold hunt, a pair of fur stockings afford 
additional warmth to the feet. To be sure, the shoes 
are often soaked with water, and, when dried, become 
stiff and uncomfortable; but then Sassumack takes 
them in charge, and renders them pliable by means of 
a thorough chewing. 

Her strong, white teeth are characteristic of her 
race. The teeth of an 
old woman become 
worn to mere stumps 
with such constant 
use. 

Perhaps you have 
noticed that the upper 
part of Narmick's 
body is especially 
strong, while his lower 
limbs do not corre- 
spond in either 
strength or develop- 
ment. This is doubt- 
less because he spends so much time in a cramped po- 
sition in his kyack. 

Kudlu assisted his father in making this little 
home in which we find them living. The walls are of 
snow so laid as to form a dome measuring twelve feet 




64 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

in diameter and eight in height. A row of smaller 
huts forms a hallway through which you would have 
to crawl on hands and knees in order to reach the liv- 
ing room. When once you have succeeded in reach- 
ing this living room, you find a slight depression in 
the floor near the entrance. This forms the front 
hall, where you are expected to pause and remove the 
snow from your clothing. The raised portion is the 
parlor and kitchen in one. The floor is covered with 
a carpet of skins. Above the doorway is a tiny win- 
dow, where a small slab of ice or a piece of transpar- 
ent parchment serves for glass. Above the window 
is a tiny ventilating hole, which is necessary because 
of the excessive heat within. 

The heat for comfort and also for cooking is fur- 
nished by a small lamp, made from a piece of rock 
hollowed out to form a saucer in the shape of a half 
moon. On the rounded side, which is deeper, rests a 
wick of dried moss. A lump of blubber, hanging over 
the lamp, melts with the heat, and dripping into the 
saucer feeds the wick. 

Any story of Eskimo life must be a story of hunt- 
ing and fishing. There is so little plant life that an 
Eskimo depends almost entirely for food upon the 
meat he can obtain. 

Kudlu is a boy of thirteen, but he is almost as 



GREENLAND. 



65 



skillful as his father in the management of a kyack, 
and in harpoon throwing. 

When we first see him, he is on his way down to 
the shore with his kyack. It bids fair to be a stormy 
day, so he draws on a rain coat of waterproof parch- 




ment, and, to make it quite watertight, he laces it to 
the hole in the boat where he sits. Then he takes his 
paddle and pushes away from shore. Thus equipped, 
he can cover six miles an hour; and should he be up- 
set, he can right himself without the paddle by the 



66 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

aid of his throwing stick, or even by the means of one 
strong arm. 

Just now Kudlu is paddhng slowly, looking in- 
tently for fish; but bigger game is to be his to-day. 
For three hours of hard work he has obtained only a 
few fish, when away to his right he sees a slight dis- 
turbance in the water, which may mean a whale. 
Turning his kyack quickly in that direction, he reach- 
es the spot; but the whale has finished blowing, and, 
becoming alarmed, has disappeared. Kudlu frowns 
angrily, for now he cannot tell where the whale is 
likely to reappear. At a venture he paddles straight 
out to sea, and he is rewarded by a sight of the whale 
a short distance in front of him rising to blow. Quick- 
ly, Kudlu prepares his harpoon, raises it above his 
head, and with sure aim, sends it deep into the body 
of the whale. Plunging so violently as to lash the 
water into foaming waves, the whale sinks from sight, 
trying to ease the agony of the cruel point. 

The first sideways pull has bent the shaft loose 
from the point, so that it remains attached only by a 
line, an ingenious contrivance which prevents the 
breaking of the shaft. This precaution is necessary 
in a land where only bits of driftwood are obtainable, 
and these have to be lashed together with thongs. 



GREENLAND. 



67 



The bladder fastened to the harpoon keeps it afloat 
when it misses its mark. 

On the instant that the animal begins his down- 
ward course, Kudlu pays out the spare line. But five 
more yards remain, and then he must cut the line if 
he would save his own life. Five yards — three — two 




and then, just as the last moment appears very near, 
the strain ceases for a moment. The next instant the 
boat is being drawn rapidly through the water. Grad- 
ually, very gradually, Kudlu pulls in a few feet of the 
line, and when the whale, becoming exhausted, rises 



68 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

to blow, he is ready with another harpoon. Again the 
whale madly plunges, and again Kudlu so skillfully 
handles the line that he keeps his kyack safe, while 
the whale is visibly weakened. Bravery and skill have 
their reward, and the proud little Eskimo paddles la- 
boriously homeward, towing his valuable prize. His 
strength is almost exhausted, when he sees the cluster 
of huts on the shore. 

Keen eyes have noted his distress. With shouts 
of joy the women rush down to his assistance, and 
with willing hands secure the carcass, 

Kudlu is now a great hero. He is a very young 
boy to have taken such a large whale. 

The women drag the carcass to the largest hut in 
the little village, and there place it in the center on 
the floor. It is a white whale, measuring nearly fif- 
teen feet. The head is one-third the entire length of 
the body, while the mouth cavity equals the thorax 
and abdomen together. In the mouth are the whale- 
bones of commerce. Their purpose is to strain the 
water so that the whale may get the food which is in 
the water. By the way, a whale is not a fish, for he 
breathes air, taking it from the water, and blowing it 
out when it becomes foul. A right whale* would 

*The common or Greenland whale, from which are obtained the 
whalebones of commerce. 



GREENLAND. 



69 



probably have measured fifty or sixty feet, and Kudlu 
could never have landed such a creature. 

There is now great feasting in the village. The 
whale is divided among the different families accord- 
ing to an established rule. The skin, taken with the 
blubber attached, is really not so very distasteful to a 
hungry man, for it tastes much like nuts and oysters 
together. 

And now that food 
is plenty, each one, 
feeling that he must 
make up for the long 
fasting, eats and eats 
until it seems impossi- 
ble that a person can 
hold so much. Per- 
haps it would be wiser 
to eat more sparingly 
at present, and save the remaining food for future 
need, but this is not the way of the Eskimo. If there 
should happen to be a piece of meat left, after every- 
one has satisfied his hunger, it will be buried under a 
pile of stones. Won't it spoil ? Yes, perhaps; but that 
would make no difference to a hungry Eskimo. 

When is the next meal to be? Oh, that is hard 




70 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

to say. A person eats whenever he is hungry — if 
there is food. 

Now that all have satisfied their hunger, they ask 
Kudlu to relate his adventure. This he does at great 
length, leaving out no detail, however unimportant, 
and acting out the whole affair just as it occurred. 

Now that Kudlu has shown himself such a valiant 
youth, his father has decided to help him build a new 
kyack. The wood for the light frame has been care- 
fully hoarded up, bit by bit, and there are now skins 
enough. The women have prepared the skins so that 
they are very soft and pliable. An important part of 
the process is the thorough chewing — a piece of work 
not unpleasant, since it necessitates the swallowing of 
the fat drawn from the skins. 

When completed, the kyack is twenty-two feet 
long, a foot and a half in width and a foot in depth. 

Narmick decides to carry the remaining skins to 
a village where he knows he can exchange them for 
new spear points, which a certain man there makes 
especially well. 

The journey will be eighty or ninety miles, and 
must be accomplished by the dogs and a sled. 

Now, an Eskimo has no separate word for any 
number above five. Seven is "two fingers of the sec- 
ond hand;" twelve is "two toes of the foot," and 



GREENLAND. 



71 



twenty is "a whole man." So when Narmick tells his 
neighbors that he is going to drive eighty miles, he 
uses words which mean "four whole men." One hun- 
dred is the greatest number they ever use. 

The sled is ingeniously constructed. The long 
runners are shod with ivory, or when that cannot be 







«^^^^^ 


i^ 


^^^^^ 














■ - 


v-* 


** 


&f^ 



obtained, mud is applied when soft, and frozen on 
with water. 

Narmick will take fifteen dogs; and when he is 
snugly wrapped in furs, he takes the short handled 



72 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

whip and sends the long lash curling above the ears 
of the leader thirty feet ahead. 

If you do not understand something of the long 
Arctic nights, and the days when the sun never sets, 
get some one to explain it to you. 

On the day when Narmick starts, there are three 
false suns about the true one, a phenomenon peculiar 
to the Arctic regions. The nights are now very short, 
a sign that summer is near at hand. 

For a few miles, Narmick follows along the shore. 
There he passes a pile of driftwood marked with its 
owner's sign. Now, there is no one near to prevent 
Narmick taking the wood — indeed, the owner may 
have left it there years ago, but it is quite safe. No 
Eskimos will touch it, no matter how much wood may 
be needed. 

Now the way leads down a steep slope. The 
driver must climb out of his warm wraps and hitch 
the dogs to the rear of the sledge, that they may hold 
it back. 

The remainder of the journey is without any in- 
cident to relieve the monotony, and Narmick reaches 
the village just as the sun is setting amid such gor- 
geous colors as are found only in a northern sunset. 

A group of boys are having a game of football 
with an inflated bladder, while several others are 



GREENLAND. 



73 



practicing at throwing the harpoon. A crowd of dogs 
are snapping and snarhng at the heels of the boys. 
You would never think these fierce creatures, so wolf 
like, would be cowards at heart. But times of starv- 
ing, varied with an occasional meal, does not tend to 
make any creature amiable. Narmick is warmly wel- 




comed, and he finds it easy to exchange his skins for 
the desired weapons. But they persuade him to stay 
and join with them in a bear hunt which they have 
been planning. Tracks of bears have been seen in the 



74 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

snow, and everyone is eager to secure the flesh and 
the shaggy fur of a polar bear. 

The party is separated into couples, each man 
being armed with a lance. Narmick has been search- 
ing for hours without so much as seeing a bear track, 
when his companion catches sight of the object of 
their search, an enormous polar bear, shambling over 
the snow with slow, awkward gait. His fur is wet — - 
he has evidently been swimming or diving for seals. 

Immediately Narmick drops back, and by a long 
way approaches the bear from the opposite direction. 
Then together both hunters rush up, and with lance 
and knife finally overcome the great bear. His car- 
cass belongs to the man who first caught sight of the 
bear, but when their party have dragged the carcass 
home," Narmick is given a piece of the skin to take 
home with him. It will make an excellent mat for 
him to crawl upon in long hunts upon the ice. 

Narmick decides that it is now time for him to 
start homeward. He harnesses the dogs, and is soon 
dashing out of the village. 

Narmick is speeding swiftly along, when his keen 
eyes note a peculiar track in the soft snow. "Surely 
it is the track of the musk ox," he exclaims; and he is 
not so much surprised as delighted, when he catches 



GREENLAND. 



75 



sight of not one musk ox, but six. What a fine chance 
to get a valuable skin ! With that hope he leaves the 
sled and hastens toward the group of great shaggy 
creatures that look, in the distance, like bundles of 
hay. Narmick has not gone far when they see him» 
and realizing that he means to kill them if he can^ 
they rush together into a group, and standing back to 
back, prepare to fight for their lives. There is one 
mother in the group who is worried about her baby. 
She stands over her 
child, and it is al- 
m o s t completely 
hidden by her shag- 
gy hair. When 
Narmick sees the 
fierce attitude of 
each animal, he 
gives up the chase, 
and, much against 
his will, he turns back to his sled; and in a wild 
scramble, the frightened animals rush up the rocky 
slope. When Narmick rides up to his own door, he is 
tired and cold. There is Sassumack to greet him, but 
there is not a man in the village except the two old 
men who are too old to hunt. The others are off on 
a walrus hunt, and this time they are successful; 




76 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



which is most fortunate, since food is greatly needed 
in the community. 

When the hunting party returns, there is another 
feast. It is such a large walrus ! He must measure- 
at least sixteen feet. When first they had wounded 
the walrus he became very dangerous, and several of 




the hunters who had a very narrow escape had cause 
to be glad they were hunting in numbers. You see 
they managed it so that the party approached the 
walrus when he was at the bottom of the water dig- 



GREENLAND. 77 



ging clams. But when he rose and received the at- 
tack, enraged with pain and anger, he rushed for the 
men to kill them with his tusks. Here was the dan- 
ger, and it was a fight for life. 

After the feasting is over, Narmick turns toward 
his hut; but an accident has befallen it. It has caved 
in ! Sassumack is not greatly surprised, for she has 
noticed the unsafe condition of the walls. This acci- 
dent means that a summer dwelling must be erected 
out of reindeer skins. The new home is larger, but 
furnished like the other. This tent of skins will not 
resist storms so successfully as did the low, round, 
snow huts, but a tent will be very comfortable for 
summer. 

And now the hard winter is passing away, and 
summer will bring plenty of food. On one of these 
early spring days there comes into the little village a 
stranger whose sunken eyes and faltering steps tell a 
sad, sad story of hunger. He wildly demands food, 
and it is quickly given him. Then, when strength be- 
gins to return, he tells a horrible story of how his 
people have been slowly starving. All food has been 
exhausted; they have even tried to make a soup out of 
the dried skins of the tent walls, and of cast-off cloth- 
ing; and, hoping to live on this for a time, have sent 
this, their strongest man, to the nearest village for 



78 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

help. He fears that even now they are dying, for he 
has been so long on the way. 

Eskimos are always willing to share with a neigh- 
bor. That is why you never find a rich family among 
them. A party is quickly made up to go to the relief 
of the starving people. 

While starvation has been besieging the village^ 
a herd of reindeer has been ranging within easy reach 
of the famine-stricken little town. As the hunters 
grew weaker, the reindeer fed nearer, each being ig- 
norant of the existence of the other. The long winter 
has told upon the reindeer. The sleek, brown coats of 
last summer are rough and gray, and the skin hangs 
in loose folds. Along the paths where, they were ac- 
customed most often to feed, were strewn here and 
there outgrown pairs of antlers. The large antlers 
belonged to the oldest member of the herd. Each 
new pair of antlers has an additional prong, and when 
they are cast in January there is always a new pair 
growing under the skin, which will be ready for use 
in the summer. When these new antlers are growing 
they are soft and velvety; but by and by a bunch or 
burr forms at the base, which seems to cut off the 
blood supply, for the soft velvety covering shrivels up,, 
and Mr. Reindeer can rub it off in the bushes. And 
so these reindeer fed about on the open plains near 



GREENLAND. 



79 



the seashore, scraping away the snow that covered the 
moss and tearing it up, sometimes with their horns, 
but using most often their snout, which is protected 
by a stout skin. 

How do I know all this ? Why, Narmick sees the 
herd when he car- 
ries food to the 
poor famine suffer- 
ers, and he stays be- 
hind to set a trap. 
He digs a deep pit, 
covers it with slabs 
of ice, and then 
goes on to the vil- 
lage. Only a few 
hours after he has 
gone, two young 
reindeer come this 
way. On they come, 
playfully tossing 
their antlers and 
pawing the snow with their feet. One breaks through 
the thin cake of ice, and is a prisoner in the pit, while 
the other is swiftly speeding away in alarm. 

Narmick's return will be a triumphant one, for 
with this capture he can furnish Sassumack material 



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80 lifU in other lands. 

for clothing, and sewing thread; for himself, lashing 
twine; and flesh to be enjoyed by everyone. 

But before home is reached, a visit must be paid 
the nests of the eider duck; for the eggs are good to 
eat, the sea weed lining will be eaten with relish, and 
the birds themselves are wanted for their skins. 

There, among the large stones, a little, brown 
mother bird has toiled to build her modest little nest. 
Many weary journeys has she made to and fro, gath- 
ering bits of sea weed and grass; and then, having 
made the nest nice and warm, she adds one thing more 
— a soft lining, the fluffy down from her own breast. 
There are five eggs in the nest over which the little 
brown mother lovingly watches, while her mate, a 
handsome fellow in black feathers and a white breast, 
is flying far away for food. Isn't it sad that this little 
family is so soon to be destroyed, for the Eskimo is 
near at hand. Unless he can capture the bird and 
pluck the down from her breast while she is alive, he 
will get only that which is worthless, and must be 
content with only the lining in the nest which was 
intended for the comfort of five helpless birdlings. 

There are auks in plenty, while high above the 
auks and ready to swoop down upon an unfortunate 
are the glaucous gulls. Tiiere seems to be a certain 
understanding that an auk near a nest is not to be 



GREENLAND. 



81 



molested. Falling stones cause no disturbance if they 
are in the usual quarter, but a stray stone from an 
unexpected direction causes a fearful commotion. 

Hayes, in his ''Land of Desolation," tells how it is 
the habit of the lummes to sit on a ledge of rock in 




regular rows, as if each bird were a soldier on parade. 
Each female bird lays one egg on the rock, puts it on 
end, and sits on it as on a stool. If an egg is de- 
stroyed, the unfortunate owner may steal an egg, if 



S2 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

she can do so unobserved. The owner of the stolen 
egg may in turn steal one. 

I must tell you about a party that Sassumack had^ 
There were over fifty bird skins which she had dried 
one by one, with the feathers on them. There were 
so many of the skins that she thought she would make 
a party and invite all the women to help her prepare 
them. The tent was quite full of guests, who sat 
about the floor and chatted gaily with each other until 
Sassumack gave each one a bird skin to chew. Most 
of the fat had been scraped off, but enough remained 
to repay a person for the chewing. Each woman be- 
gan at one end of the skin and continued to chew until 
it became white and soft. Then, stowing this portion 
away in one cheek, she began to chew the next por- 
tion, and so continued until the whole skin was tucked 
away in one cheek. 

The days become longer and longer. At last the 
sun keeps on his round and fails to sink below the 
horizon. A spirit of restlessness takes possession of 
the people, who are now living in tents of skins, and 
we are not surprised* to see that an oomiack is being 
constructed. Eighteen skins have gone to cover this 
fiat bottomed " woman's boat," and there comes a day 
when the village is deserted, the few articles needed 
are placed in the boat, and the thirty-five little people 



GREENLAND. 83 



whose fortunes we have followed so long, take their 
places in the boat. The women take the paddles, and 
with regret, we watch them as they lose themselves 
among the beautiful cathedral-like icebergs. We 
shall never know what fortunes await them, — ^what 
hardships they may be called upon to endure, nor upon 
what shore they build their new homes, when the 
northern lights shall flash in waves of color, and the 
long, dreary night shall have come again. 



84 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 




South America 



MARJA 

ARJA is a true princess, but never has she 
worn a purple robe. Her father is king of 
a people that belongs to the great group of 
Indians known as the Tupis, living near the Amazon 
river or scattered through the dense forest. The 
white people who come up the river are a familiar 
sight to the Indians with whom they trade; but Marja 
lives far back in the dense forest, and none of her 
people have ever seen the face of a white man. 

You see her in this little village to-day; but a 
week later, you may find the rude huts deserted, and 
learn that a new village has been made near to fresh 
hunting grounds. Purple robes ! No, indeed ! It is 
such a warm country that very little clothing of any 
kind is worn. Ninety-nine degrees in the shade, or 
one hundred twenty-two degrees in the sun during 
the warm months, seems but little hotter than our 



SOUTH AMERICA. 



85 



own climate; but because of the great amount of 
moisture in the air, the heat is almost unendurable. 
The little village over which Marja's father rules 
consists of only five or six houses, but he is the king, 
and to him the people come for advice in time of war. 




Great trees overshadow the whole village. The 
framework of each house consists of four poles driven 
into the ground, and across the top is laid another to 
support the roof of palm leaves. Three sides are open, 
that the room may be as cool as possible. In Marja's 



86 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



home, the hammock serves for both bed and chair; and 
the stove is a hole in the ground, where various roots 
and grains are being cooked in the ashes. The gourds 
carelessly scattered around, serve for plates, kettles, 
water jugs, etc. Some long bows and arrows leaning 
against the wall, tell how the hunting is done. 

Marja's father is light brown in color, and, al- 
though he is slender, his muscles are firm and strong. 
His hair, which is black and straight, falls away from 
a broad, low forehead. The eyes are long and narrow, 

and the nose somewhat 
flattened. He has a 
habit of keeping his thick 
lips parted, which gives 
to his face an appear-^ 
ance of stupidity, that is 
very deceiving. All the 
men have patterns tat- 
tooed in red and blue 
about their mouths, and 
they are also proud of 
the smaller decorations 
pricked on arms and legs. 
Marja's baby brother rides astride of the mother's 
hips, and he must find it a comfortable way to rest, 
for he is quiet while she carries him thus in going 




SOUTH AMERICA. 87 



about her work. She appears to be fond of her baby, 
now while he is small, but travelers say that a native 
mother seems to lose affection for her children after 
they are able to take care of themselves. Perhaps it 
it is not strange, for she is a busy woman. 

She carries the drinking water from the pools and 
streamlets in jars of clay; cooks the food, prepares the 
mandioc, and does many things of which we shall 
speak later. All burdens she carries upon her back, 
and at the last moving time, such a load of things 
were hung about her on all sides as to quite hide her 
from sight. 

Did you ever feel as if there was nothing but 
work in this life of yours ? When there is wood or 
water to bring, dishes to wash, errands to run, lessons 
to study, practicing to do; when father is always busy 
at office or store, when mother says "Not now, I'm 
busy," did you ever wish yourself safely away in a 
land where there are no pianos, where lessons never 
have to be studied, and where there are no carpets to 
sweep nor dishes to wash ? 

Here is just such a country; and yet, did it ever 
occur to you that there must always be food to eat, 
and if one cannot run to the grocer or baker for food, 
one must be one's own gardner, butcher, and baker? 
The time that father now spends in the office would 



88 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



be just as fully occupied, but in a different way. He 
would take his bow or long blow gun, and be gone for 
days hunting the tapir, alligator, or armadillo. 

Mother, too, would be busy planting corn, cooking 
the meals, and making farina. You, little girl, would 
have to help, and I fear you would soon wish yourself 
safe back in America, where, if there is a great deal 

to be done, there 




are certainly many 
convenient helps to 
make the work 
pleasant. 

Just to look at 
the mandioc now; 
you would never 
think so much work 
had been spent upon 
it. The ground was 
originally covered 
with trees. The 
trunks were cut off 
close to the ground, 
but there was still the labor of burning the trunks 
and planting the mandioc. The full grown plants 
are higher than Marja's head. The leaves, grow- 
ing at the top in a star-like cluster, seem to be 



;t* SOUTH 



SOUTH AMERICA. 89 



proudly beckoning to you; but be not deceived. It is 
the root which is the useful part, and it will not be 
ripe until a year after the planting. Think of a pars- 
nip two or three feet long, and you have a very good 
idea of the mandioc root. 

Marja is helping now to peel one, and sometimes 
her mother lets her try to hold the pieces against the 
round grater which she turns with her foot, but the 
little girl finds it difficult. 

The wet paste which falls from the grater has to 
be pressed, in order that the poison may be extracted. 
The hard lumps are then pounded fine, and the flour 
is dried in an oven. 

Marja remembers how one day when her mother 
was not working, she ate some of the moist paste, and 
became so ill that she never wanted to try it again. 
But, strange to say, if the juice is put away to fer- 
ment, it loses the poison, and is very good to drink. 

If you are fond of tapioca pudding, you will be 
interested in knowing that tapioca is the pure starch 
that settles when the grated mandioc is mixed with 
water. The starch mixed with the woody fibre is 
farina, upon which these people mainly depend for 
food. 

Marja soon tires of trying to help her mother. 
She is really too small to be of use, and she soon wan- 



90 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

ders away, unnoticed, down to the river, through a 
dense, tangled network of vines and luxuriant foliage. 
Orchids of wonderful shapes and beautiful colors 
brush against her hand, but she does not want them 
to-day; air plants, bending, touch her lightly on the 
forehead, but she heeds them not, nor is she attracted 
by the many-colored moths and blue butterflies. Some 
of the moths so closely resemble a leaf or twig that 
only a sharp eye can detect them. It is a strange fact, 
and proves the wisdom of nature, that only the swift 
flying insects show their color freely. I suppose they 
trust to their wings for escape if pursued. 

But Marja is now at the water. She has been 
here before. She calls it her garden, for here, 
stretched upon the surface of the water, are the leaves 
of a giant water lily. I once went to see this wonder- 
ful Victoria Regina at Lincoln Park, Chicago. 

I asked how such great leaves, some of them 
eighteen feet around, could keep on the surface of 
the water, and they showed me a wonderful system of 
braces growing under the leaf, furnishing support like 
the braces of an umbrella. Marja often sees a blos- 
som three or four feet in circumference. If the pet- 
als are white to-day, they will be a delicate rose color 
tomorrow, changing on the following day to a red. 
Then the lily loses its fragrance, droops to the water. 



SOUTH AMERICA. 



91 



and begins to ripen its seeds. This is one ilower that 
I do not desire for a bouquet, and I smile as I try to 
imagine my Httle friends bringing me a bunch of such 
huge beauties. 

Just as Marja turns to go home again, she sees 
an armadillo that is looking for insects, roots, or the 
flesh of some dead animal. "What a good dinner his 




delicate flesh would make!" she thinks; but she is 
only a little girl, and he is protected by a tough, 
scaly armor. So she stays, hiding among the 
branches, watching him poke his long nose about. 
The three parts of his armor are joined with elastic 



92 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

bands, so he can move very easily, and his short legs 
are provided with hooked nails for burrowing. 

Suddenly a slight movement from Marja fright- 
enes the armadillo, and before she can wink he has 
found a hole and is gone. As she sees the last of 
his black tail disappearing in the ground, she wishes 
she dared seize him by it and drag him forth; but she 
does not know that should she try to do so, she would 
pull in vain; for once having gotten his head in, she 
might pull his tail off without securing him. 

Marja retraces her steps, and finds that her father 
has returned. He has been looking after the cows. 
It is many years since he has tried to keep any cattle. 
All former attempts ended in disaster. The tse-tse 
flies came and proved a terrible enemy, and now this 
attempt bids fair to end in a like manner. Yesterday 
he missed a young heifer, and to-day went in search 
of it. He found an anaconda twenty-six feet long 
that had fastened to the neck of the poor animal, and 
having crushed out the life, had covered the mass 
with slime and swallowed the carcass whole. When 
found, the anaconda was lying torpid with the horns 
sticking out of its mouth. It would have remained so 
for a month, until the horns had dropped off by decay, 
had not vengeance overtaken the reptile, in the shape 



SOUTH AMERICA. 



93 



of an Indian who found it an easy task to deal death 
to the serpent in its present condition. 

Marja would like her home better if there were 
no ants, for they annoy her greatly. There are red 




ants with large heads,, and ants of all sizes. The tana- 
juras are brown ants like hornets, three inches across 



94 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

the wings. The Indian can have his revenge for the 
annoyance these ants cause him, for he finds them 
good eating when they are scalded, fried in fat, and 
seasoned with salt and pepper. 

Charles Dent, in his book called "A Year in Bra- 
zil," says he watched the females as they flew rapidly 
about. He saw them settle on the ground, lift up the 
center leg and break off their wings, first on one side 
and then on the other. After finding a suitable place 
to burrow, they removed the grass, dug the earth 
with their jaws, and deposited it on the lower side of 
the hill so that it could not be washed back again by 
the next rain. Was not that a wise thing to do? 

Once Marja's family returned at night after a 
day's absence, only to find that a family of ants had 
taken possession, and there was nothing for the people 
to do but to build a new hut. 

There is one kind of ants that are an inch and a 
quarter long. Fortunately they exist only in small 
colonies about the roots of slender trees. The sting is 
not severe. 

The parasol ants are described in a very interest- 
ing manner by Henry W. Bates, in "The Naturalist in 
the Amazons." He says that they march to and fro 
in broad columns, and strip entire trees of their foli- 
age. They mount to the leaves and carry away cir- 



SOUTH AMERICA. 95 



cular pieces as large as a sixpence. Then, carrying 
their pieces vertically, they march off. They also 
plunder provisions. The natives try to drive them off 
by putting dead fish in their nests, and since they pre- 
fer cultivated trees, branches are cut and thrown in 
their way, in the hope that they will be satisfied and 
leave the mandioc alone. 

To-night Marja is suffering greatly from the 
cabecudo ants. They are really no larger than a grain 
of pepper, but they bury themselves in the flesh. 
Marja's father has removed as many as 270 at one 
time from about his waist; and now you know why he 
lets his finger nails grow so long, and keeps them 
pointed. 

The ant has a powerful enemy in the great ant 
eater. The only pity is that he cannot get all of the 
ants. He looks like a bundle of hay, this shaggy, 
short legged creature; and it seems a bit ridiculous 
that an animal six feet long (not including his great 
bushy tail) should prey upon such a tiny creature as 
an ant. And yet, this is just how he gets his food. 
He tears open the ant hill and puts in a long, slender 
tongue, to which the ants stick, but he cannot swal- 
low them until the tongue is again thrust out. 

The summer passes quickly, and the rainy season 
will soon be an unpleasant reality. Before it comes, 



96 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



there is much to be done. This year it is the inten- 
tion to abandon the village and go to the great Brazil 
nut forest. Moving is an easy matter, but the jour- 
ney is quite another problem. Canoes will take them 
part of the way. The occasional turtle, lizard, tapir, 
and water hog will supply them with meat, and they 

have brought a large 
supply of yams and 
plenty of farina. There 
comes a time when the 
boats must be abandoned 
and the rest of the way 
made on foot. The par- 
ty grow very weary be- 
fore the first day is over, 
and throw themselves 
down to rest in the shade 
of a rubber tree. There 
is no water to drink, the 
supply has long ago been 
exhausted; but nature has made provision for the 
needs of just such thirsty travelers. It is but the 
work of a moment to cut a branch from the water 
vine, and there flows a tiny stream of water. When 
all are refreshed, preparations are made for the night; 
a simple meal is eaten, and a guard is appointed, for 



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SOUTH AMERICA. 97 



there is great danger from wild beasts in this wild 
region.' 

With the first light of day the march is resumed. 
It will be wise to be far on the way before the burn- 
ing heat of the sun shall overtake them. Just as the 
sun is becoming unbearable, they reach the great for- 
est. How will it ever be possible to gather the nuts 
from such giant trees ? Why, some of them must be 
at least two hundred feet high, and there isn't a 
branch or anything on which to climb for at least half 
the distance. But they do not intend to climb, but 
instead, they will patiently wait for the nuts to come 
to them. The men are quickly set to work building 
huts close by the rough trunks, and soon a tiny village 
has sprung up in the dense shade of the forest. 

This very night a wind storm arises, and at inter- 
vals the sound as it were of falling cannon balls causes 
Marja to start in her sleep, but she is lulled by the far 
away roaring of the wind in the tree tops, and sleeps 
on. By morning the wind has died away, and stand- 
ing at the door of his hut, the Indian views with great 
satisfaction the work of the storm. The ground 
is strewn with the nut cases; some of them falling 
from such a height have buried themselves in the soft 
earth, and will have to be dug out. Put eighteen 
large Brazil nuts into a stout wooden box, only just 



98 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

large enough for them, and then tell me if you would 
like to have it dropped upon your head from the top 
of a ten story building. 

There is danger every moment from the falling 
cases, and it will be very strange indeed if the harvest 
is finished without an accident. 

Marja takes care that -her little brown body does 
not venture outside of the shelter of the strong roof, 
and she finds something to amuse her in the pile of 
nuts, which is daily growing larger. The rough, 
wooden cases cannot be carried away. There is noth- 
ing to do but to pound them off — a task which is both 
slow and tiresome. All through the rainy season they 
work, and when the rain ceases the village is deserted. 
Slowly and laboriously, they work their way back to 
the canoes, which, strange to say, are found in their 
hiding places where they had been left. 

All the nuts are put into two canoes, and trusty 
men are given the charge of these two, with instruc- 
tions to float on down the river until they shall reach 
a town where it has been reported there are men who 
will take nuts in exchange for weapons, arrows, or 
anything an Indian may desire. 

Until the return of the canoes, a new home must 
be found, and this is not an easy matter to decide, 
when there are some who want to search for rubber 



SOUTH AMERICA. 



99 



trees, while others want to plant cacao. In fact, the 
tribe has been too much excited by the prospect of 
trade with the towns which are far down the river. 
Two years ago they were quite contented, but the ar- 
rival of a stranger from one of the river tribes had 
put many new ideas into their heads. This excursion 
into the Brazil nut forest is one result of the strang- 
er's words, and now, while 
they are waiting for news, 
they want to be preparing 
another cargo to be sold if 
the report is favorable. 
Their minds naturally turn 
first to cacao, but the tree 
will not yield fruit until it 
has been planted four or 
five years. They cannot 
afford to wait so long, and 
messengers are therefore 

sent to a distant village to see if it be possible to buy 
some trees which are already bearing fruit. During 
the period of waiting, small parties are sent out to 
find some rubber trees, and the very day that the first 
one is found, the party which was sent to find cacao 
trees returns. 

They found a village greatly needing farina. 

LofG. 




100 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

The crop of mandioc has failed, and the men will 
exchange the fruit of half their cacao trees for a 
stated amount of farina. 

The only satisfactory way seems to mean a divis- 
ion of the tribe into two parties, one to pursue the 
search for rubber trees, and the other to prepare 
chocolate. 

To Marja falls the lot of remaining with the 
gatherers of rubber. Every day that a new tree is 
found, there is great rejoicing, and in a few weeks 
there are so many located that it takes quite two hours 
to make the evening rounds. Next day the men bring 
in a gill or so from each tree, and little by little the 
liquid rises in the clay jar. Then a fire of palm nuts 
is builded, and a flat wooden -paddle is dipped in the 
liquid. Over the fire the juice dries and blackens, an- 
other coat is applied and dried in the same way, and 
the process is repeated until twelve coats have been 
applied and the rubber is an inch thick. 

Little do the men know what a valuable article of 
trade they have in their hands. Some faint idea they 
have of its possibilities, to be sure, but at the ship- 
ping ports it will be in great demand. 

One day, as they are at their usual occupation, a 
familiar shout from the river causes all eyes to turn 
in that direction. It is the men who have sold the 



SOUTH AMERICA. 101 



Brazil nuts. Their canoes are loaded with many 
strange objects which will add greatly to the comfort 
of the Indians. Most prized of all is the collection of 
bright colored beads, and these are quickly distributed 
and proudly worn. 

More beads can be obtained for cacao seeds, rub- 
ber, or chinchilla fur. All was true which they had 
heard concerning this far away town. There were 
large boats, wonderful houses, and strange white men 
who spoke a queer language, but were ever ready to 
give beads for any of the things the Indians might 
bring. A messenger is sent to the gatherers of cacao 
seeds, with the good news, and to bid them send or 
bring their chocolate at once, that it may be taken to 
the city of the white men. The messenger finds the 
men quite ready to leave the village. They have been 
very busy cutting open the outer shell, washing the 
seeds free from the pulp, and now, upon the mats on 
the raised stagings the seeds are quite dry and ready 
to be sold. It cannot truly be called chocolate until 
the seeds have been roasted, melted, and made into 
cakes with melted sugar. 

No part of the fruit needs to be wasted, for the 
women know how to make a delicious jelly from the 
pulp. 

So a new cargo' is prepared, and without delay it 



102 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



is sent down the river to that far away, wonderful 
place of fairy-like possibilities. 

Marja's mother now thinks it quite time that she 
pay a little more attention to the needs of her own 
household. She first sets Marja to watch the sapucaia 
tree, while she turns her own attention to making 

dishes out of the 
shells of the cala- 
b a s h. For two 
whole days she 
scrapes away at the 
inner pulp, and 
paints the new 
dishes so that they 
look as shiny and 
smooth as if var- 
nished. 

A 1 1 this time 
Marja is obediently 
watching a sapu- 
caia tree. She has 
thrown herself up- 
on a soft, grassy 
mound, and with an occasional glance up into its um- 
brella-like crown of leaves, she watches the monkeys 
chattering in the branches, and wishes she could catch 




SOUTH AMERICA. 103 



the little brown marmoset who has at last ventured 
from his hiding place in the hollow of an old tree. 
Poor little monkey ! He is still shivering with cold, 
although the sun is almost overhead; and is, no doubt, 
wishing himself back in his warm home. Other mon- 
keys swing from branch to branch, and hanging by 
their tails, saucily tease each other. A small bee flies 
past her face to his home, where his warning causes 
the guards of the hive to fill up the doorway with 
resin, while the imprisoned inmates live upon the store 
of honey. Thus is made the resin used for the bows 
of our violins. 

But hark ! What is that noise; and who is throw- 
ing a shower of nuts at Marja's head? Marja knows, 
and she springs to her feet and is off to her mother 
with the news. " The case is opened; it let the nuts 
fall right through the bottom, mother, and you'll need 
to hurry." In spite of the haste made, the two find 
that the monkeys have already helped themselves, 
and only a part of the nuts are left. 

It seems as if one were never free from danger, 
for as Marja and her mother, homeward bound, pass 
under a low branch of a cecropia*, danger threatens 
them in the form of a sloth, hanging by his long, 

*A tree twenty or thirty feet high, named after Cecrops, 
king of Athens. 



104 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



curved claws. He has been feeding on cecropia leaves. 
All his life has been spent hanging from the trees, 
and now his fore legs have grown longer than the 
hind legs. But just because he is such a slow crea- 
ture, his victims have passed before he has had time 




to bite, and he drops lazily to the earth for one of his 
rare journeys upon the ground, where he will move 
so slowly and awkwardly that five or six yards will 
measure the distance of one day's travel. You see 



SOUTH AMERICA. 105 



now why people have warned you against being sloth- 
ful. Why, this creature is so slow that it takes sev- 
eral charges of shot to kill him, and even when he is 
hurt the wound scarcely bleeds ! He is slow in every 
part of his nature. 

There will be something new and delicious for 
supper, of which Marja has not known. The turtles 
have appeared on the river bank to lay their eggs in 
the sand, and swimming slowly away in the water, are 
shot by good marksmen. So there are turtles for 
supper, and there will be turtle butter after th^ eggs 
are collected and broken and left in the sun. The oil 
that rises will be a very valuable addition to the daily 
bill of fare. 

Within the same week, two parties of Indians 
stop, on their way down the river, and are eagerly 
questioned. Both companies have heard of the great 
boats down where the river reaches the ocean, and of 
the men who will buy. 

One canoe is loaded with bundles of chinchilla 
fur. The men, upon being questioned by Marja's 
father, the chief, tell all they know about how and 
where to find the little gray animals which, though 
only twelve inches long, are in great demand among 
the white men. The informer points far up the river 
and indicates that "it is only far away, close to the 



106 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

mountains, one may hope to find the chinchilla at 
home; and even there he is visible only at morning or 
evening, as his long ears emerge from his burrow — a 
sign that it is time for breakfast or supper of grasses 
and roots. You need never hope to catch him. His 
short, front legs give the body a slant which appears 
always to direct his head toward the underground re- 
treat, but a tame weasel can be taught to follow into 
the burrow and bring him out. 

The other canoes are filled with odd shaped bun- 
dles wrapped in hides. The men willingly open one 
bundle, carefully unfasten the coarse cloth, and dis- 
close about 150 pounds of the dry cinchona bark, from 
which quinine is made. 

After a great deal of talking, one of the strangers 
consents to leave his party and act as guide for any 
who may wish to know the way to the cinchona trees. 
Marja's wanderings are to begin anew. New experi- 
ences will bring new duties. There will always be 
work to do, and tasks which have before been too 
heavy for her, will soon fall upon her slender shoul- 
ders; for she is fast growing to be a careful, capable 
little woman. 



CHINA. 107 




CHINA 

SI NG LEE 

N THE crowded street of a certain city of 
China, a quaint, boyish figure stands leaning 
against a projecting wall. His blue trousers 
are loose and baggy, he wears a long. blue coat tied at 
the sides over a white under- jacket, and only a small 
skull cap covers his head. 

An unpleasant frown disfigures his face as his 
eyes rest on the figure of an American; and as the 
stranger passes, words are uttered by the boy's lips 
that would mean in our language "foreigner." Like 
his countrymen. Sing Lee has a hatred both for for- 
eigners and for all foreign innovations. 

Turning as the stranger disappears, Sing Lee 
passes on to his home. The wall is close to the street, 
its plainness being relieved only by some stucco work,* 
and by the granite steps that lead to the front door. 
There is but one story. The home is a collection of 

* Stucco is a fine plaster for covering walls. 



108 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



small buildings, built of bluish gray bricks two or 
three inches long. 

The air is cool this morning, and the house is 
cold and uncomfortable. Sing Lee finds his mother 
trying to warm her numb fingers at a tiny portable 
stove. He would like to put on a short, loose jacket 

of padded silk, but the 
wearing of winter cloth- 
ing may be done only at 
the order of the emper- 
or. Until it is cold at the 
emperor's palace, there 
will be no proclamation 
issued for winter ap- 
parel. 

He selects a fresh pair 
of high silken gaiters 
which are lower behind 
than in front, ties them 
about his ankles, and adds a pair of sandals with sim- 
ple soles of leather. Then he is off to school. Not to 
a public institution, for there is none; but to a private 
school, where thirty or forty boys have already begun 
to study. 

Sing Lee goes directly to his teacher, who sets 
him at work learning a portion of the book from which 




CHINA. 109 

yesterday's lesson was taken. It contains the wise 
sayings of a great Chinese teacher, but Httle heed is 
being paid to the meaning of the words as Sing Lee 
rocks back and forth, shouting the words at the top of 
his voice. Indeed, much of it is far beyond his abihty 
to understand, but the teacher hopes that the mean- 
ing will become clear in after years, and he is now in- 
terested only in seeing that his pupils have thoroughly 
learned their lessons. 

Usually Sing Lee would have had his lesson 
learned much sooner than the other boys, but to-day 
something is distracting his mind. The older boys 
have translated their pages into ordinary language 
and have written it out with a fine camel's hair brush. 
The more advanced pupils have composed their origi- 
nal essays, and now there are left only Sing Lee and 
a smaller lad who has been in school only a few days. 
The difficulties seem too many for this tiny little fel- 
low to master. He has for the first time realized that 
there are 3,000 characters which he must learn before 
he can read even an ordinary book; and he cannot, try 
as he may, see why this queer, crooked, irregular thing 
he has copied over and over, should mean summer, 
when the character he copied yesterday meant father. 
But he is a persevering little fellow, and he rubs his 
cake of ink in the little flat dish at his side, and tries 



110 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



again to make an exact copy of the character be- 
fore him. 

But Sing Lee is still shouting out his lesson. 
Down the column he reads, and proceeding to the left 
has just finished his portion for the thousandth time, 
it seems to him, when the teacher calls him. With 

many misgivings 
he turns his back 
to the teacher and 




begins to recite; 
but, alas ! before 
he is half way 
through, he stops 
and is unable to 
proceed. There 
is no escaping the 
punishment. A 
black ring is 
marked around 
each eye to rep- 
resent spectacles, 
and he hurries 
home to lunch, 
trying to slip through the back streets, and hoping to 
hide himself from the gaze of passers by. At home 
his father would have beaten him, had it not been for 



CHINA. Ill 

the fact that the whole household is excited over the 
preparations that Ye Sing is making for a journey to 
Pekin. Do you notice that the name Sing is a part of 
the father's name also? You see, in China it is con- 
sidered more polite to put your parent's name first. 
Just as if we were to say, not "John Smith," but 
"Smith John." 

Ye Sing is a great scholar. Years ago he passed 
the examination held in that district where he resides. 
The examination required only an original poem and 
several essays, but it lasted a day and a night, and he 
was one of the few who passed, although a hundred 
made the trial. That was the way he got the gold 
button which he wears on his cap, and now if he were 
arrested the law could not order bodily punishment to 
be inflicted upon him. 

But that was not all. He passed a second exam- 
ination, longer and harder, received another gold but- 
ton, and is now known as a " promoted man," for are 
not the words written over his door? 

Sing Lee has always hoped to follow his father's 
example; but he is in disgrace to-day, while his father 
is about to start for Pekin to take the third exami- 
nation. 

During the days of his father's absence, nothing 
interests Sing Lee. He passes by the peep shows, the 



112 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



Punch and Judy shows, and th.e gymnasts. He touch- 
es neither his dominoes nor his chess, nor will he con- 
sent to join the boys in a lively game of shuttlecock. 
He will not go to the theatre, although there is a play 
now in progress which has been going on for several 
days and is not yet finished. 

And yet the days do drag along somehow, and the 
father is home again, tired, worn, and worried by the 

severe days of ex- 
amination. 

Sing Lee would 
at once demand an 
account of all that 
his father has seen 
and done, had he 
not been taught a 
proper respect to 
his parents. So very 
humbly he waits until it may please his parent to 
speak. 

And so, little by little. Ye Sing tells the whole 
story to his wife and child. He says he was greatly 
bothered by not being able to understand the different 
dialects of the regions through which he passed. 

Arrived at Pekin, he went at once to the exami- 
nation hall, or examination grounds, to be more ac- 




CHINA. 113 

curate. The hour for the examination arrived and he 
was shown to his cell, which was at the end of the 
central avenue, along which were ranged 8,000 other 
cells, most of which held an anxious man, upon whose 
efforts depended a great deal. The door closed upon 
him, the lock was fastened, and, opening his bundle of 
writing materials, he placed them upon a bench, 
lighted a candle, threw himself upon a seat, and be- 
gan to work. Late into the night he wrote, and when 
he felt that he must rest, he blew out the candle, 
threw himself upon the floor of the tiny cell and slept; 
but long before light he was up, and after a lunch was 
at work again. 

For three days he kept at work, until his head 
throbbed with his efforts to think, his body was ex- 
hausted from lack of sleep, and it seemed as if it were 
better to die than to fail after so much of his life had 
gone into the attempt. 

Turning to leave the hall, he saw among the 
crowd pouring from the cells, a feeble old man who 
was quite overcome by the strain, and was unable to 
walk. Ye Sing hastened to help him on his way, at 
which the old man was very grateful to him, and told 
how he had tried this examination every time for the 
last twenty-five years, and was still hoping to succeed. 
Ye Sing wondered of what use success • could be to 



114 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



such an old man, since the government position which 
it might bring would be too late for so feeble a person 
to take. 

This is all that Sing Lee is able to learn of his 
father's journey, and now many days must pass before 
the result can be known. 

Meanwhile Sing Lee is still at school, and has not 

been obliged to wear a 
second pair of specta- 
cles. 

He is hurrying home 
one evening to supper, 
swinging his pretty fan 
and thinking how much 
he would enjoy a dish of 
the greenish brown 
worms from the rice 
fields, pickled and salt- 
ed, rather than the pork, 
fish, or fowl that will 
probably be served. Of 
course there will be rice and tea, but he does wish 
there might be something especially good to-night. 
But when he reaches home, all is in confusion. His 
mother has been taken with a serious illness. Just as 
usual, the hairdresser had come early in the morning 




CHINA. » 115 

to arrange the jet black hair of Sing Lee's mother. 
For several hours the hairdresser had plastered her 
hair with gum, and when the work was over, it was 
beautifully done in the prevailing style. Then a paste 
had been applied to her face, rouge to her cheeks, eye- 
lids, and palms, her nails dyed a bright red, and Sing 
Lee's little mother awkwardly made her way on her 
tiny, misshapen feet to her favorite place. Taking 
up the embroidery which was to decorate her hus- 
band's robe when he should become a mandarin, she 
had set industriously to work until the sickness had 
overtaken her; and now, when Sing Lee comes home 
he sees how very ill she is. 

Only yesterday, she had been carried "pick-a- 
back " by the strong servant, to visit at the house of 
See How; and now she is too ill to hear her son's 
Voice. 

Fortunately the mother does not die, and before 
the Dragon Boat Festival has come, she is almost well 
again, and able to enjoy the beautiful sight. 

This festival is to keep in memory the death of a 
great minister of state, who lived 450 years B. C. 
He had failed to persuade his emperor to act in a cer- 
tain affair of the state, and had been dismissed. In 
grief, he took his own life, and now we have the 
ceremony of looking for the body. 



116 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

Our friends have a boat eighty-five feet long, and 
at its prow is the head of a dragon, a symbol of im- 
perial power. The drums beat, the boats dart here 
and there, an exciting boat race comes off, and the 
day closes in one grand blaze of lights from the 
lanterns. 

Nothing comes to break the usual order of things 




except the occasional holiday. One is the Festival of 
Lanterns,* another is the Full Moon Festival, t and 
there is the Day for Ascending on High, when every 

*Thi"s festival originated in the story that God fixed a certain 
day to destroy man for his wiclcedness. Being warned, each per- 
son placed a fire in his doorway and lighted lanterns, that God 
might see the light and think his orders had been carried out, and 
the world destroyed by fire. 

t At midnight on the 15th of the month, the goddess is supposed 
to come to earth for the purpose of granting the wish of ar.y mor- 
tal who may see her. 



CHINA. 117 

one who can goes to the top of a hill or mountain, in 
memory of a time when a family was saved by a 
similar act. 

The greatest feast comes at the beginning of the 
nev/ year. For about three weeks business is sus- 
pended, and the time filled with various celebrations 
appropriate to the season. There are always fire- 
crackers, not alone for the small boy, but for the dig- 
nified elderly man, who with solemn face steps to the 
middle of the street, lights the fuse of a large fire- 
cracker, and without a gleam of amusement in his 
face, goes upon his way, knowing he has performed a 
worthy act. 

At this time comes the Kite Festival. Every man 
and boy, no matter how poor, will have his own kite 
to fly on this day. There are whistling kites, kites of 
odd shapes and bright colors, beautiful flaming kites 
at night, large kites, small kites, and every possible 
kind of a kite. 

The boys rub their kite strings with glue and ap- 
ply some powdered glass, so that they may cut the 
string of another kite and capture it. Altogether it 
is the j oiliest, most exciting day that can be imagined. 

I suppose you think we are never going to hear 
the result of the examination. It has seemed a long 
time; but the report comes at last, and everyone for- 



118 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



gets how anxious he has been, in joy at the good news 
— success. This means an appointment to a govern- 
ment office, and it will raise a man to a rank among 
the greatest men of the land. 

A few weeks later, Ye Sing finds it necessary to 
move to his farm, and the boy having never been in 
the country is only too glad to move. Everything 
is new to him, from the rice fields to the tea farms. 




He has been to every part of the farm before two days 
have passed, and yesterday he /lad decided to be a tea 
merchant, to-day he thinks he will raise silk worms, 
while to-morrow his plans may turn towards opium 
raising. The men on the farm let him work the end- 
less chain by means of which buckets of water are 



CHINA. 



119 



hauled to the top of a slope and emptied there to flow 
down over the plants on the hillside. 

The naughty boy tried to smoke opium one day. 
He knew it was wrong, for he had been told that 
opium smoking was sure to injure the health and 
weaken the mind, but he had been watching the men 
scraping off the white paste which had formed at the 
slits made in the pods. He at once decided he would 
like to try to smoke opium. Whether he would have 
succeeded we shall never know, for his father found 
him just then, and you can imagine what followed. 

If I were not afraid of 
wearying you I would tell 
more about tea culture, but 
I think you know a great 
deal about that subject al- 
ready. It may be no news 
to you that the plants are 
raised from seeds and 
transplanted the following 
autumn and that the shrubs 
are kept low, so that many 
branches will grow and bear more leaves. You doubt- 
less know that the crop is not gathered until the plant 
is about four years .old, and that some leaves are left 




120 - LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

to collect dew for the plant. Of the three crops, of 
course, the first is the best. 

Congo tea is dried very slowly in the sun; Oolong 
tea is dried more rapidly, and over a fire in an iron 
vessel. 

Tea is never steeped in China. They pour the 
boiling water over the tea, and drink it with neither 
milk nor sugar. 

But business calls Ye Sing to the city. He has 
tea to sell, some opium, and a little rice. 

Sing Lee is allowed to accompany his father. 
Passage is hired on a trading boat. This is a very 
slow way of traveling, but far more comfortable than 
riding on jolting, creaking carts, over rough roads. 

The boat stops at every little village along the 
way, and takes on some rice at one place, chests of tea 
at another, hollow stems of bamboo to be used for 
water pipes at a third, bamboo for building purposes, 
and even tanks of live fish which are bound to the 
city also. 

Among the passengers on board is one who is go- 
ing home to his pearl fisheries, a day's journey down 
stream, and while Sing Lee is munching his melon 
seeds, the man talks with his father about pearls. It 
is Gee Lun, the wealthiest pearl gatherer on the river. 
The two men find much in common, and before the 



CHINA. 



121 



pearl fisheries are reached, Ye Sing has promised that 
when the boat stops he will go with his friend and see 
the opening of the shells. 

The visit proves to be just at the right time if 
one wishes to see the results of the work. In May, 




the mollusks* had been gently opened that tiny lumps 
might be put in against the shell. They were then 
put in shallow ponds to stay for several months. The 

*A moUusk is an animal having a soft body and no inside 
skeleton. 



122 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

rough substance hurt the tender mussel and it cov- 
ered the offending place with a smooth coat of pearl 
like that which lines its shell. 

To-day they are opening these shells for the 
pearls. In some cases the work proves to be fruitless, 
in others the pearl is small or imperfect, while the 
finding of one of great size and beauty will more than 
pay for all the labor lost upon the others. 

The boat is soon to leave, however, and good byes 
are hastily said. One more air castle is being created 
in the brain of Sing Lee, and he decides that he must 
surely become a gatherer of pearls. What necklaces 
he will give to his mother; what heaps of "cash" he 
will gather together ! His father must have the hand- 
somest cofl^n in the kingdom, to proudly show his 
friends when they come to the house. His father will 
say: "This beautiful coffin is the gift of my young son, 
who is a rich pearl gatherer." For himself he will 
buy a fierce black cormorant and train it for his very 
own. He will tie a cord about the bird's neck so it 
cannot swallow the fish, and then his idle hours shall 
be spent sending the bird for fish He will lazily sit 
in his boat while the bird watches for a fish. He need 
not even exert himself while the cormorant darts 
down. The bird will seize the fish by the head,' if pos- 
sible; if not, by tossing it up in the air he will catch it 



CHINA, 



123 



again in the proper place. Oh, he knows all about 
the habits of cormorants ! He has seen them fish- 
ing many times, and knows why the wise bird swal- 
lows the fish head 
first. Do you? When 
several fish have 
been caught. Sing 
Lee thinks he will 
call the cormorant 
to him and make it 
open its long, slight- 
ly hooked beak, and 
disgorge the fish, 
which, because of 
the string he had 
tied about its neck, 
have been s w a 1- 
lowed only into a 
pouch. 

Sing Lee contin- 
ues to dream of 
things that his 
wealth may buy. His finger naiis must be at least an 
inch and a half long, then everyone may know he 
never works, and no one shall dare to come into his 
presence with the queue done up. He, of course, will 




124 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

have a wife. Her feet must be of the smallest. His 
mother shall beat her and order her around, and he 
will tell his wife that submission to the husband's par- 
ents is a wife's first duty. Yes, he must have ser- 
vants to wave beautiful and costly fans while he dines, 
and everyone shall call him great. 

But, alas, for boyish dreams ! He forgets that 
the only road to public honor is through the exami- 
nation hall, the path which his father has trod. 

His dreams stop suddenly, as the boat passes a 
strange procession. A man is floating slowly down 
the stream, followed and surrounded by a fluttering, 
noisy flock of ducks who are taking themselves to 
market. Now and then, the man in the boat lifts a 
long stick and reminds the laggard that he must 
hasten on. The noisy flock have felt this same rod at 
evening time, when the master's whistle has called 
them to their tiny shed on the tanka boat. 

And now they are approaching the city. The 
bank is lined with boats, two or three rows deep, 
moored to a hitching post. How fine to be able to 
move when tired of one's neighbors, and how much 
nicer to have one's home free from payment of rent ! 

How good it seems to be on land once more, and 



CHINA. 125 

to be able to go here and there without having to hur- 
ry back to the boat. 

Business comes first, and then pleasure. Ye Sing 
has some purchases to make. They enter a Kttle shop. 
The whole of one side is open to the street. Here are 
beautiful carved pieces of wood, some of ivory, and 
jewelry made of that beautiful greenish white stone 
called jade. Some pieces of ivory are selected, and a 
necklace of jade. The merchant names the price — Ye 
Sing is surprised and indignant. The merchant pro- 
tests that it really is a very low price, but since the 
purchaser insists, he will lower it a bit. Ye Sing is 
more hopeful, but firmly refuses to pay any such a 
price, and turns to leave the shop. He is recalled, 
however, and the bartering goes on until a satisfactory 
price is agreed upon. The amount is reckoned up on 
the oblong tray, where the little balls strung on wires 
are deftly moved here and there to represent different 
sums, and the money is paid. 

Now to the shop of an artist. Sing Lee is to have 
his picture painted. When the picture is finished 
some days later, it is pronounced by everyone to be a 
decided success. Of course it is a front view, so as to 
show two eyes and two ears. What else would you 
have ? Do you want people to think you are blind or 
deaf, as they surely would if a side view were taken. 



126 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

showing but one ear and one eye. His head is bent in 
the attitude of a student, and there isn't a single 
shadow on the face. 

Two more days, and the city is left behind. This 
time the journey must be made in the creaking, 
springless cart; for there is not time to wait for the 
slow boat, which on its way up stream would seem 
scarcely to move. 

As the road grows rougher, it becomes necessary 
to ride in sedan chairs, and even these become very 
uncomfortable before home is reached. 

The weary travelers are too tired to tell much 
about their journey. Eat they show the things they 
have bought. Everything is greatly admired, and a 
good supper awaits them, but first of all an act of 
worship must be performed before the ancestral tab- 
lets. Upon a pedestal of fragrant wood, stands a tab- 
let which is ten or twelve inches high. This tablet 
represents one ancestor, and descends from father to 
son. These tablets are considered the most precious 
articles in the house. 

Then the meal is ready. To-night there is a rare 
treat in the shape of a bird's nest soup. The boy 
who brought the nests to the farm easily sold his 
stock.' He was also ready to relate the story of 
his thrilling adventures in climbing the rocky ledges 



CHINA. 



127 



for these same nests of sea weed. Because of the im- 
portant interests now, httle will be said about the 
nests, except that the soup is delicious. But weeks 
hence, after his mother has told him the story, Sing 
Lee will wake up screaming, from a sleep troubled 
by dreams of being let down in a basket over a ledge, 
and there hanging between the sky and the sea, with 
the sea birds screaming in fright and anger about his 
head. 

There can be only a few days in which to rest, for 
on a farm there is little time for idleness. The owner 
of the land, although he may have plenty of servants, 
must be on hand to 
superintend. For a 
month the silk 
worms have been 
carefully tended, as 
they alternately fed 
and slept on the 
bamboo frame of 
their little house, 
where neither noise 

nor foul odors were allowed to disturb, nor visitors to 
alarm. 

The cocoons have all been spun, and now, before 
the worm awakens and cuts his way out, the threads 




128 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

must be unwound. A bath of hot water loosens the 
thread, but, alas ! it kills the creature inside. How- 
ever, the grubs are not wasted. They will be eaten, 
and they are considered delicious. 

Other duties crowd one upon the other, and win- 
ter is here at last. The country life is at an end, for 
the government appointment has come, and Ye Sing 
is commanded to appear in Pekin. 

A new life awaits him, one governed by a million 
rules of etiquette, of which he fortunately is not en- 
tirely ignorant. 

Sing Lee will doubtless grow up to be like his 
father. He, too, may become a mandarin, and be re- 
spected as a great man by a nation of frugal, sober, 
and industrious people. 

I have at home the picture of one great evidence 
of Chinese industry. Long ago, a troublesome people 
on the north of the kingdom caused so much destruc- 
tion, that a great wall was built along the northern 
border of China to keep them out. Although con- 
structed three hundred years B. C, it still stands, al- 
though in some places it is in bad repair. It is twen- 
ty-five feet high, forty feet broad, and one thousand 
five hundred miles long. Watch towers rise from the 



CHINA. 129 

wall at regular intervals, as it stretches away over 
mountains and through valleys. We, with our mod- 
ern conveniences, can hardly estimate the time, labor, 
and money spent in erecting this wall, but we can 
admire the thoroughness of the work. 



130 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 




GERMANY 

KLARA 

N THE walls of a certain castle by the Rhine, 
hangs a quaint picture of little Lady Klara. 
Though a child, her eyes seem to speak of 
the courage and strength which were ever characteris- 
tic of her during the rough and perilous times in which 
she lived. As we stand in this strange old hall, gaz- 
ing into the fearless eyes of Lady Klara, it seems an 
easy thing to conjure up the people who so long ago 
feasted within these walls. 

Let us yield to the impulse, and live again in the 
unfamiliar scenes of that bygone day. The castle is 
quiet just now, for the men are away on a hunt. They 
are sure to bring home plenty of game, for the hunt- 
ing is fine, and the country abounds in wild forests. 
Danger adds to the excitement, for the wild boar is a 
formidable creature to meet, even if one be well 
armed. But the huntsmen return, bringing a stag. 



GERMANY. 



131 



We know they are coining, for horns are heard; the 
drawbridge is let down over the moat, and the knights 
come riding over in triumph. The game is cut up in 
the castle yard, after which the evening is spent in 
feasting and revelry. 

An alarming tale is told of how a band of peas- 



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ants had attacked the hunters by suddenly coming 
upon them in a deserted spot. They claimed that the 
knights of the castle had done them harm — had tram- 
pled their fields and seized their lands. The attack, 



132 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

however, was unsuccessful, and no danger is felt here 
inside the castle walls, for the bridge is drawn and 
the wide moat is filled with water. Soon music is 
heard outside. The page is sent to bring in the singer, 
whose songs shall please the f easters and win for him- 
self a generous reward. 

In the servant's hall, a group is formed about a 
peddler who has not only brought articles for sale, but 
who has that rarest of all things— a newspaper. While 
the noblemen read the news, which is now several 
months old, the servants will hear from the mouth of 
the peddler an account of what is going on in the 
outer world. There are tales of war between no- 
blemen, the brave but unsuccessful defense of a weak 
band, the entrance of the enemy to despoil the castle, 
and to bear away as captives the fair ladies whom the 
fortune of war has placed in their power. It is hard 
to remember that we are safe when we hear of such 
danger to others. 

Years pass, and our Lady Klara grows to be a 
beautiful young woman, and wherever there is feast- 
ing, men speak of her wonderful beauty. Young and 
handsome knights come to sue for her hand, and in 
time she goes to dwell in a castle as the beloved mis- 
tress of hundreds of loyal servants. 

But this is the beginning of a more troublous 



GERMANY. 133 



period. There follow wars against foreign invaders, 
and against bands of peasants who seize this oppor- 
tunity to obtain revenge for past injuries. Lady 
Klara tearfully watches her husband ride away at the 
head of his brave band, and she sets to work to make 
what defense is possible with the small retinue of 
trusty men left to guard her. 

But, why sadden our hearts with the fearful de- 
tails of that period ? All that is passed, and we are 
to-day standing in a deserted castle, gazing at the pic- 
ture of a little girl who lived six hundred years ago. 

We look about us, and find that in many places 
the walls have been torn down, the great gaps show- 
ing the attack of a strong enemy, as well as the rav- 
ages of time. There is neither feasting nor revelry 
now, and the drawbridge is unwatched. The ruins 
are here overlooking the Rhine, but the busy activity 
of life is elsewhere. 

Just this side is a great farmhouse with porches 
supported by stone pillars. The garden and a general 
air of security tell of peaceful times. 

The interior of the house is plain but comfortable. 
Against the plastered walls stand heavy oaken chairs, 
beautifully carved. On the mantle is a queer old tank- 
ard with a set of beer steins. 

A little girl comes running into the room and, 



134 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

flinging herself into her mother's arms, seems to be 
pleading for some favor. We cannot understand what 
is said, but the word "mutter" touches a common 
chord. As the mother kisses the pleading face she 
calls her Klara, and we rightly conclude that she has 
been named for the Lady Klara, whose picture this 
little girl dearly loves. 

A letter has come from the father, who has been 
a whole month in Berlin, trying to find just the right 
kind of a home for his wife and daughter. The letter 
says that success has rewarded his efforts, and in two 
days he will come to assist with the packing. 

The mother is sad at the thought of leaving the 
dear home, with its queer, old fashioned furniture 
that belonged to her grandmother. She loves the 
castle ruins, and the beautiful river makes music that 
to her ear is very sweet. 

But Klara is glad to leave all these old fashioned 
things, and is filled with delight at the thought of the 
new life until the very moment of departure, when 
her whole heart goes out in one passionate sob as she 
realizes that this dear home is to pass forever from 
her life. 

But wonderful sights meet her on every side, and 
she has soon dried her tears. The journey is a long 
and tiresome one, but the new home is reached at last, 



GERMANY. 135 



and then begins the work of placing the few things 
they have brought with them, so as to make the rooms 
seem homehke until new things shall have been 
bought to take the place of the ones left behind. 

There is already in the house a large porcelain 
stove, a very grand one of ornamented tile. Almost 
the first thing Klara's father did was to light some 
papers in this stove, for the house was damp, and soon 
there was so much heat that they were forced to open 
the door. The flames do not show anywhere, but a 
little fuel will go a great ways in a German stove. 

Then the boxes are unpacked. The linen is put 
away in a suitable place, the dishes are unpacked, the 
beds made, and it is with a great deal of satisfaction 
that Klara looks about the little room she is to call her 
own. She carefully puts into shape the wedge-shaped 
pillow of her bed, straightens the thick, narrow blan- 
ket, sees that her favorite possessions are in place, 
and goes to her mother again. 

She is sent at once to the baker for bread. Klara's 
mother will not bake bread, for it is the custom to 
have the baker do that. I think your mother would 
like such an arrangement, and I know you would en- 
joy living in a country where two lunches and three 
meals are served each day. 

Klara's father has gone for some beer, but he is 



136 



LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 



home before Klara has come from the baker, and in a 
short time the family of three are sitting down to the 
first meal in the new home. You must not be sur- 
prised to see them drinking beer, for it is a German 
custom from which there results neither drunkenness 
nor quarreling. 

Night comes, and it is a tired little girl who falls 
asleep in her new room with scarcely a thought for 

her old home. Are 
not her father and 
mother with her, 
and are not they all 
the world to her? 

Next day there is 
sauerkraut to be 
made. You will 
soon learn that 
everywhere in Gerr 
many you find beer, 
music, and sauerkraut; and, indeed, the odor of sauer- 
kraut pervades the whole country. 

This will be a busy day, cutting the cabbages and 
packing them with layers of salt in tubs, to stand in 
a warm room until fermentation takes place. 

At night Mr. Holtz insists on their leaving the 
house and going with him for a glimpse of the city. 





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GERMANY. 137 



They are much top tired for sight seeing, so they all 
go to a neighboring beer garden and there listen to 
some fine music; for you must remember that music 
is everywhere in Germany, and always of the best. 

Klara's father loves music, and so does the mother, 
but neither of them is so moved by the music to-night 
as is Klara, whose nature seems to respond to the 
grand harmony. Her eyes fill with tears, and she 
turns to her father, saying, "May I not learn to play?" 
The father and mother exchange glances, for it has 
been their fondest hope that this one child of theirs 
should choose to be a musician. But the father only 
smiles down into his daughter's eager face and says: 
"Wait a few days, my daughter, and we will talk it 
over; but to-morrow night I will take you to the larg- 
est music hall there is in the city. There will be as 
many as 4,000 people, all able to find seats, and that 
with only one gallery." With this promise Klara is 
content, and in her little room to-night she falls 
asleep to dream that she has been asked to play for 
the great Kaiser himself, and had done so with such 
success that he had presented her with a gold chain. 

Next evening they go to the concert hall, and 
Klara is more sure than ever that she wants to learn 
to play; so next day, a little after noon, she, and her 
father, start out to find a teacher. They pass through 



138 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

streets full of interesting sights, but none of these 
things still the happy voice in the girl's heart that 
keeps saying: "I am going to learn to play, I am going 
to learn to play." 

As they reach the great school for music,- a shy- 
ness causes Klara to draw close to her father, and, 
as they enter the great door, she seizes his hand and 
holds it tight. They go first to the oflice and are 
told the great teacher will see them in half an hour. 
A young American girl is already seated in the room. 
She has been weeping, and Klara whispers to her 
father: "May I speak to the lady?" Receiving per- 
mission, she inquires the cause of the lady's trouble, 
and receives an answer in broken German very dif- 
ficult to understand. The young lady, it seems, has 
come from America to finish her music. She has been 
taught by good teachers who praised her unsparingly, 
and said she needed only a little study abroad to make 
her famous. Yesterday she came to see the great 
teacher, and he told her she must begin to work on 
scales and finger exercises. He would not promise 
her advanced work for a longtime. She had gone 
away discouraged, but this morning she has come ta 
begin her lessons — she consents to begin at the very 
beginning, only a great homesickness has overtaken 
her, and — yes, she has been crying. Already she 



GERMANY. 139 



feels better because of Klara's sweet sympathy. As 
some one comes to show the girl to her class, the con- 
versation is interrupted; and soon after, the great 
teacher himself enters the room. Arrangements are 
quickly made. Klara is to be under the instruction 
of one of the Herr Professor's best pupils. He is very 
kind and gentle with her, and does not seem one bit 
like the great man he is said to be. 

On their return, they stop to hear the band, which 
is giving an open air concert in the park, and then 
they reach home just as the chimes are ringing from 
the tower. In a moment the street is filled with a 
crowd of people who have paused to listen, and then, 
as the strains die away, travel is resumed, and the 
street takes on its usual appearance. The postman 
has brought a letter which contains good news. 
Klara's cousin Joseph is coming to the city to school. 
He will be very welcome in the family of his father's 
brother. 

The welcome is quite apparent at the station when 
he arrives, and Klara soon learns that Joseph is a boy 
on whom all sympathy is wasted. He isn't homesick, 
he is pleased with all he sees, and full of "all the 
things he shall do when he is fully established in the 
cadet school. He thinks, however, it will be great 
fun to spend all his holidays with Klara, and I doubt 



140 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

not that he finds her a very interested listener. 

Next day Joseph is taken to the school, where he 
is to remain for a year, being allowed to visit his uncle 
on holidays. His head is filled with all sorts of plans 
for mischief, when he is shown the large room where 
all the cadets sleep. The long rows of beds suggest 
all sorts of schemes for the discomfort of his school- 
mates. The daily program is shown to him, and he 
soon sees there is a time for everything except play. 
The program gives the rising drum at six; breakfast 
at seven; then prayers, followed by muster; daily pa- 
rade at twelve, and then dinner; a light lunch at four; 
and supper at seven. By nine all are in bed. 

While Joseph is being assigned a place in the 
schoolroom, Mr. Holtz is talking with the master 
about the schools of Germany. It is quite evident 
from their talk that the schools of Germany aim at 
but little, and accomplish it — having for their great 
object the training of thinking men. The two gen- 
tlemen agree that the hours of school are too long. 
Joseph would agree to this, and he would also have 
agreed to the next statement — that there is too little 
play. He would rather have one playground than 
a whole city full of gymnasiums; but children are 
rarely seen playing noisy outdoor games, and, although 



GERMANY. 141 



wonderful toys are made in Germany, they are rarely 
seen in the hands of German children. 

But this discussion sounds very uninteresting to 
most of us, and we are very glad when the arrival of 
Joseph breaks up the conversation. Joseph bids fare- 
well to his uncle, and the young student begins his 
life in the cadet school. 

Now that the Holtz family is finally settled, a 
servant must be found to help with the work. This 
is a very difficult task, for a strong woman is needed 
who can do the heavy work. 

There are all sorts of applicants for the position. 
Some are inexperienced, some are not strong, and 
some want too much pay. At last the right kind of a 
girl is found, who will work for what would be equal 
in our money to $2.50 a month, and that is considered 
very good pay. I think one thing that secures her the 
position is the fact that Klara's mother has some 
thought of visiting a distant relative in France, and 
sees in this servant one who would be a help in trav- 
eling. Of course, in that case, the servant would ex- 
pect no wages — except the amount of her traveling 
expenses. She would consider the advantages for 
sightseeing more than enough to make up for the loss 
of her wages. 

Klara's father has secured a position as director 



142 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

in a boy's gymnasium, and is learning to like the 
work very well. He has been a soldier so long that it 
seemed hard at first to settle down to regular work. 
Like every German in good health, he was trained as 
a soldier, that there might be plenty of soldiers for 
the army in case of war. At twenty he was put into 
the reserve army, then he served a term of four years 
in the regular army, and was then relieved from 
further service. His tall, straight, figure and military 
carriage helped to secure the position which he now 
holds, and for which he is well prepared. 

With Klara, time passes very rapidly, and she 
can hardly believe it is so near Christmas; but the 
calendar tells truly, and a letter from Joseph, though 
brief and boy-like in its composition, tells unmistak- 
ably that he is coming to spend the holidays. 

He is to arrive the day before Christmas, so Klara 
has taken the morning of his arrival for a thoughtful 
act of charity that she has been planning. She packs 
a large basket with delicacies, some of which she has 
herself made, puts in a warm shawl, some flannel, and 
a bright red scarf, and finding the load too heavy for 
her, she summons Gretchen, and together they take 
their way toward the home of a peasant woman who 
lives on the outskirts of the city. Klara first saw this 
woman last spring, and had been moved to pity at the 



GERMANY. 



143 



sight of an old woman driving a heavy plow in the 
little garden where later she expected to plant and 
care for enough vegetables to support herself and 
eight grandchildren, while her son was in the army. 

On this December day, she sees the woman about 

to enter the house, 
bearing on her head, 
upon a small round 
cushion, a heavy 
basket full of fuel. 
Behind her comes 
her eldest grand- 
daughter, carrying 
as heavy a load, sus- 
pended from a yoke, 
beneath which the 
young shoulders 
bend with fatigue. 
Very welcome are 
the gifts found in 
Klara's basket, and 
we know something 
of the happiness that is in Klara's own heart, as she 
hurries homeward to see if Joseph has yet come. 

Yes, he has arrived in her absence, and she finds 




144 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

him just the same Joseph whose acquaintance she 
made months ago. 

He almost immediately begins to tell her of the 
tricks he has helped to play on the "knapsacks," and 
from that you may know that Joseph is not a "knap- 
sack." This is his second year in school, although 
only the first year in Berlin, and a "knapsack" is a first 
year pupil. Joseph has nothing to say concerning his 
first year in Stuttgart. He had his full share of trou- 
ble, you may be sure; but all that is forgotten now, 
and he turns his whole attention toward teasing the 
boys who are under him. 

He tells Klara how they punished Hans, who was 
selfish. He had received some nuts from home, and 
had not shared them with the . other boys, but had 
hidden them away, that he might feast by himself. 
Of course, the second year boys found out the hiding 
place, and the next time he went to eat a portion of 
the nuts, he found only the empty shells — ^the kernels 
had all been removed. 

Nick was a boy with a quick temper. He was 
also irritable and altogether disagreeable. He found 
himself imprisoned in his cupboard, and was not re- 
leased until he ceased his angry beating against the 
door. He learned to be more civil to his companions, 
and to restrain the expression of his evil temper. He 



GERMANY. MS: 



wanted to "tell" on his tormentors, and had serious 
thoughts of doing so, but was restrained by his one 
intimate friend, who persuaded him that he would 
only add to his troubles. 

Fritz was a temptation to any boy inclined to 
mischief. He believed anything he heard. One night, 
the boys told him to look at the stars through his coat 
sleeve, and declared that he would see a new con- 
stellation. He innocently did as he was bid, followed , 
the boys to a window, pulled off his coat, and, using 
the sleeve for a telescope, received the contents of a 
water pitcher full in his face. How angry he was ! 
In rage, he struck the cadet nearest him, and as a re- 
sult had a whole class of cadets upon him, who dealt 
punishment so thoroughly that he thereafter remem- , 
bered to treat the cadets with proper respect, and 
keep all his force and anger for "knapsacks." 

All this sounds very wicked to Klara; but her 
father, remembering his own boyhood days, smiles 
indulgently and says nothing. 

Now you won't expect me to tell you all that hap- 
pens to Klara during the spring months and the fol- 
lowing summer, but I must tell you about her trip to 
Strasburg in the fall. She went with her father alone. 
She had never before left her mother for a whole day, 
but she was quite sensible and grown-up about it, and 



146 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

was SO busy sightseeing that she had httle time for 
homesickness. 

The train to Strasburg would have seemed to us 
very sl'ow, but to Klara it seemed to bear her on with 
lightning speed. What the trains lack in speed they 
make up in safety and good management. You see, 
the doors can be opened only by a railroad official, 
and he carefully locks all the doors before the train 
starts, so you never see a passenger jumping on a car 
after the train has started. Klara had charge of her 
own ticket, and handed it out to the conductor as he 
passed along the outside. 

They stopped at many beautiful depots, that were 
not only beautiful but comfortable as well; with a sep- 
arate room for the nobility, a second for the common 
people, and a third for the very poor. 

Almost every five minutes, they passed a hop 
yard, and Klara decided for herself that a great many 
people must be raising hops. When they were not 
passing hop yards, they were sure to see fields of 
sugar beets, for it is an easy crop to raise in the cli- 
mate of Germany. This was a new sight to Klara, 
and learning that they were sugar beets she imme- 
diately asked her father if he meant candy beets. He 
laughed very heartily at her mistake, and told her that 



GERMANY. 



147 



it takes at least ten pounds of beets to make a pound 
of sugar. 

You see, Klara had lived all her life near the old 
castle, and was very ignorant in some matters. Many 
of the things that so interested her might have been 
seen within a few miles of her old home, had she been 
allowed to go about by herself. Now she was begin- 
ning to get her eyes open, and was very ready with 
questions. 

At Strasburg, she was left much alone, for her 
father had to attend to a 
great deal of business; but 
one pleasant day he took 
her with him for a lovely 
ride into the country. 
They found some men cut- 
ting flax in the fields, and 
she had to stop to look at 
them. She actually in- 
quired of the men if they 
intended to make the flax 
into thread on the morrow; 
and they smiled and told 
her that the flax must be 

dried for many days and then pounded and drawn 
into fibres with a hetchel before thread could be made. 




148 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

They showed her some of the flax they had left uncut 
to raise seed for the manufacture of oil. 

Then they drove on for miles, and came at last to 
a large vineyard on a sunny slope. The overseer was 
very polite to them, and showed them over the entire 
property. They walked through rows and rows of 
low vines, that had been trimmed to keep the grapes 
within reach. The stakes that had been placed 
throughout the entire vineyard, supported the heavily 
loaded vines, and kept from decay the large clusters 
of grapes that grew underneath. "I did not know it 
was quite harvest time," said Mr. Holtz to the over- 
seer. "Oh, yes," was the answer, "the government 
watch was taken away, and the official announcement 
was issued some time ago." "I don't quite under- 
stand;" interrupted Mr. Holtz, "are your vineyards 
guarded by a government watchman?" 

"Exactly that," was the courteous reply, "at least 
when the grapes are ripening. When the harvest is 
ripe, an official announcement is made of the fact, and 
we begin work." 

"How far does your property extend?" is the next 
question. "See that row of trees to the left," said 
the man; "our yards extend east as far as that, and 
west to the narrow path which you can scarcely see. 



GERMANY. 



149 



up the slope as far as its summit, and down into the 
valley below." 

The three then passed to where men, women, and 
even children were cutting the grapes from the vines. 
As soon as a basket was filled, it was taken to the 
presses, and other 
workmen picked 
the grapes from the 
stem and threw 
them into large vats 
or tubs. Just as 
our people ap- 
proached, a man 
was preparing to 
press the grapes, 
the vat being just full enough. While Klara looked 
on in disgust, he jumped into the vat and began to 
trample upon the grapes with his bare feet, and soon 
there rose about his ankles a rich purple pool that 
sent a heavy odor of crushed fruit to mingle with the 
summer air. "Oh, why don't they use a machine?" 
Klara could keep still no longer. The explanation 
was reasonable, if not satisfactory to Klara. This 
seemed to be the only way in which the juice could 
be extracted without bruising the skins to such an 
extent as would ruin the flavor of the wine. 




150 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

Near by were several casks which had just been 
filled, closed, and dated. 

"It is almost time to stop work," said the over- 
seer, "let me show you what we do with the refuse of 
skins, seeds, and stems, and then we can come back 
here just in time to see the last cask filled to-night. 
It is a sight that may interest you." 

So they went to see the great press where skins 
and seeds all went in together in one shapeless mass, 
and came out neat cakes to be dried and sold for fuel 
at about one cent apiece. 

Then they went back to the wine vats. The labor- 
ers were gathering in from all directions, and while 
they stood chattering in groups, the cask was filled, 
closed, and rolled into the midst of the assembled 
harvesters. 

"Hilda, it is your turn to-day," shouted one. 
"Where is your violin, Otto?" shouted another; and 
amidst a good natured fire of questions and teasing 
remarks, Hilda, a pretty girl, mounted the cask, and 
from a violin came the first strains of a lively air, to 
the accompaniment of which Hilda danced very 
gracefully and well; while here and there, other danc- 
ers proved that there were many light hearts in the 
little company. 

After the dance was finished, the peasants left in 



GERMANY. 151 



groups of twos or threes, busily talking of the ball 
which was to celebrate the completion of the vintage, 
at which each girl would wear her gayest ribbons, 
and toward which the thoughts of all the young peo- 
ple had been turning ever since the harvest had 
begun. 

It was now too late to ride far, so Mr. Holtz drove 
on to a small inn, where rest and refreshment were 
found for the night. 

Two or three mornings later, as Klara lay asleep 
in Strasburg, she was awakened by a cry of fire. 

Going to the window, she discovered that a building 
across the street was burning. She became very much 
alarmed, and her father just then entering the room, 
found a very frightened little daughter. He told her 
there was not the least danger, for most of the build- 
ings were fire proof, and even if left alone the fire 
would burn itself out. Then, to make her laugh, he 
gave the description of a fire in Heidelberg, as told by 
an eye witness. He said that, when the alarm was first 
sounded, the firemen went home to put on their uni- 
forms, and after surrounding the burning building, 
they stood at attention while their chief delivered an 
impressive speech. Then followed a discussion of the 
best plan of action, and by the time they were ready 
to act, the fire had burned quite out. 



152 LIFE IN OTHER LANDS. 

By the time he had finished the story, Klara was 
calm again, and ready for breakfast. 

Then he took her for a Httle sightseeing through 
the city, for this was to be their last day in Strasburg. 

Then came the journey back to Berlin and 
mother. It was a very tired but happy little girl that 
walked beside her father along Unter den Linden*. 
She glanced at the elegant carriages full of gay people 
on either side of her, and at the handsome horsemen, 
and a feeling of pity entered her heart, for they 
had not been with father to Strasburg. She paused 
under the beautiful arch at the southern end and, 
gazing up at the bronze car of victory, said shyly to 
her father: "The other cities were beautiful, but I 
like Berlin best of all." They passed on, and a few 
moments later she caught sight of her mother stand- 
ing in the door. All else was forgotten in her joy at 
being in those dear arms once more, as she said over 
and over again: "Liebe Mutter, Liebe Mutter." 

*Unter den Linden is the most beautiful street of Berlin, end- 
ing in the famous Arch of Triumph. 



PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 



abdomen 

Al Kendi 

anaconda 

anemone 

Arab 

armadillo 

azalea 

Berlin 

bouquetin 

cabeciido 

cacao 

cecropia 

chalet 

chamois . 

chinchilla 

cocoon 

Commune 

conjure 

cormorant 

crocodile 

Eskimo 

falcon 

farinha 

gazelle 

gentian 

glaucous 

Gozo 

Hammerstein 

Hamid 

Hassan 

hippopotamus 

horizon 

ibex 

Innuit 



ab do' men 
Al Ken' di 
an a con' da 
a nem' o ne 
Ar'ab 
ar ma dil' lo 
a za' le a 

Ber' Im 
(bo ke tan') 
ca be gu do 
(ka' ko) 
(se kro'pi a) 
(sha la') 
(sham' me) 
chinchil' la 
CO coon' 
Com' mune 
(kiin' jur) 
cor' mo rant 
croc' o dile 
Es' ki mo 
(faw' kn) 
(fa ri' na) 
ga zelle' 
(jen' shan) 
glau' cous 
Go' z6 

Ham' mer stein 
Ham' id 
Has' san 
hip po pot' a mu; 
ho rl' zon 
i' bex 
In' nu it 



Jules 

Kaiser 

Klara 

Kongo 

Kudlu 

kyack 

lammer-geyer 

mandiock 

Marja 

marmoset 

mollusks 

Mongolian 

Narmick 

Nubian 

Oolong 

oomiack 

papyrus 

Pekin 

plantain 

porcelain 

reindeer 

reptile 

rhinoceros 

Sapucaia 

Sassumack 

sauer kraut 

scorpion 

sheik 

sirocco 

Strasburg 

Stuttgart 

Switzerland 

tambouring 

tapioca 

tsetse 

vvhydah 



(Julz) 
(Ki'zer) 
Kla' ra 
Kong' o 
Kud' lu 
(Id' ack) 
(lam mer gii' er) 
man' di ock 
(Marzh'a) 
mar' mo set 
mol' lusks 
Mon go' li an 
Nar' mick 
Nu' bi an 
oo' long 
do' mi ack 
pa py' rus 
Pe' kin 
(plan' tin) 
por' ce lain 
rein' deer 
rep' tile 
(ri nos' er os) 
(Sapoki' a) 
Sas su' mack 
(sour' krout) 
scor' pi on 
(shek) 
si roc' CO 
Stras' burg 
(Stoot'gart) 
Swit' zer land 
tam bour' ing 
tap i 6' ca 
tset' se 
(hwld' a) 
zu senn' 



MAY 12 1904 



